


like deja vu

by justawordshaker (thegloryofspring)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Anxiety Attacks, Aromantic, Asexuality, Canon Compliant, Gen, M/M, Magical Realism, OT4, OT5, Panic Attacks, Post-Zayn One Direction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-29 22:09:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 104,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6395842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegloryofspring/pseuds/justawordshaker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Niall knows if he turns, Zayn won’t be there. He doesn’t expect Zayn to be there, but he <em>should </em>be. He should be next to Niall, looking out at Dubai and smiling and bright and <em>happy</em> and with so much awe that he can’t hide any of it. He should be here next to Niall. They should be sharing this moment.</p>
  <p>Zayn isn’t here. Zayn is gone. He’s not letting Niall into anything anymore.</p>
  <p>Niall’s afraid the space next to him will never stop feeling empty.</p>
</blockquote>a canon compliant magical realism au that follows niall and the boys while they try to navigate a post-zayn world. written for round 4 of the 1d big bang
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: this is a canon compliant AU and has **detailed depictions of anxiety attacks** throughout. if that could be harmful to you, please tread carefully. 
> 
> It's been a long seven months, but this self-indulgent monster is finally done. it has been an arduous and incredible journey and to see all of the people who have helped me along the way, please see my separate thank you post [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6395842?view_full_work=true).
> 
> the incredible art linked below is by the absolutely incomparable [Amanda](http://becomewords.tumblr.com). make sure you send her love and encouragement! she smashed it.
> 
> [Art](http://justawordshaker.tumblr.com/post/141960033721/like-deja-vu-louisniall-ot4-ot5-104k-niall) | [Fanmix](http://8tracks.com/becomewords/like-deja-vu) | [Thank You Post](http://justawordshaker.tumblr.com/post/141959761186/after-seven-long-months-my-big-bang-fic-is-about)

full artwork can be found [here](http://justawordshaker.tumblr.com/post/141960033721/like-deja-vu-louisniall-ot4-ot5-104k-niall), created by the incredible [amanda](http://becomewords.tumblr.com)

 

* * *

 

“I don’t know if I can do this anymore.”

It comes after a long day. Endless interviews and endless photos and endless questions that are all the same. They’re all tired, but Niall knows that Zayn feels it more than the rest. He’s been ill so often lately, unable to shake it long enough to ever get really healthy.

“What d’ya mean?” Niall asks. He tries to keep his tone light, but he can tell from the look on Zayn’s face that it’s serious.

Zayn looks up. Glances at all of them. Niall keeps his eyes on Zayn, but in the corner of his vision he can see Harry and Louis glancing at each other.

“Zayn?” Liam prompts. “What’s wrong?”

Zayn looks at his feet and when the car hits a bump, Niall gets an elbow to the ribs. It’s been a long time since they’ve all ridden in the same car. Niall isn’t used to having so little space.

“You mean the band,” Harry breaks the silence, voice firm but hushed. “Don’t you?”

Everything falls silent. The quiet hangs between them, heavy in a way that Niall knew it never used to be. His chest starts to feel tight and he grips his good knee until it fades to an ache.

“I just…I feel like I’m stretched out. Y’know how you always feel shitty right before you get sick? It’s nothing you can, like, pinpoint. But you feel off. It’s like that, but all the time.”

Zayn doesn’t want to look at them. Niall can tell that he’s trying to avoid their eyes. He knows what this will do to them and he doesn’t want to face it.

“You want to quit?” Niall asks and his voice comes out harsher than he means. He isn’t sure how he’s meant to sound softer when faced with this.

“I don’t _want_ to. I just…”

“What can we do?” Liam interrupts. “We can make it better, yeah? Make it work. Get you more days off or something. We can fix it. You don’t have to quit.”

Niall knows it isn’t going to work. Zayn wouldn’t have said it if he hadn’t already made up his mind. Zayn is still here, he’s still right in front of them, but Niall can see that he’s already given up from the line of his shoulders and the dark look in his eye. There’s nothing left for them to fix.

“What _do_ you want, Zayn?” Harry asks quietly, voice hushed.

Zayn shakes his head. “I don’t know. I don’t want to disappoint anyone. But I don’t…I don’t want to feel like this anymore.”

“You shouldn’t be worrying about _disappointing_ people. Shit,” Louis says. His voice is too loud in the hushed quiet hanging in the air.

“What should I be thinking about, then?”

Louis has to turn in his seat to look Zayn in the eye, but he does. Turns around and fixes him with a piercing stare. It isn’t quite a glare, but it’s a dark enough look that Niall grips his knee a bit tighter.

“You should be thinking about whether quitting the band will really help how you’re feeling or not. If that’s the only reason you want to quit.”

Zayn frowns. Niall can tell that he doesn’t understand what Louis is getting at - what he’s trying to say.

Niall does, though. He knows exactly what Louis means. His stomach twists up into knots.

“I would get some fucking rest. How couldn’t that help?”

“It’s not like the journos are going to leave you alone if you quit,” Louis says and even though his voice is all bite, he’s matter-of-fact. “They won’t care. They’ll probably be down your throat more than ever. Hound you for interviews every hour and spread made-up shit when you don’t talk to them. You really think you’ll feel better with all of that on top of you?”

“They’ll give up eventually. They always do. But I don’t want to hurt the fans - “

Louis scoffs and Niall knows this is treading into dangerous territory. His chest feels too tight and his head is swimming.

“What? I shouldn’t be thinking about the fans either?”

Louis glares, _really_ glares, and Niall can feel the tension burning between them. Louis and Zayn have always fought, have always been the most likely to have anything small turn into a fight that knocks them down and drags them out, but this feels different. It feels darker. Like there is something twisting under their words, waiting to strike.

Niall squeezes his knee, focusing on the way the denim of his jeans scrape against his fingernails.

“If you’re thinking about quitting, then the fans won’t matter anyway. Of course they’ll be fucking _disappointed._ Staying because you don’t want to disappoint them is fucking stupid.”

“Louis - “

“No, Liam, it’s _fucking_ stupid and I’ll say so.” Louis turns even further to face Zayn. His eyes are stormy and furious and he’s still glaring. “You want to talk about this? Fine. We’ll talk about it. If you think quitting is the only thing that’ll help, then fine. Quit. But don’t do it because you think it’ll be easier. Because it _won’t._ You’ll get all the shit and you won’t get any of the things that are actually _good_ to go with it.”

Liam reaches out like he wants to physically hold Louis and Zayn apart, despite the fact that they’re on opposite sides of the car. Louis shoves his hand aside.

“Don’t feed us the bullshit,” Louis snaps. “Yeah, you’ve felt like shit. But don’t try to tell us that the only reason you want to quit is because of that. We fucking know you, Malik. Stop being a fucking coward and _say_ it.”

Niall means to look at Zayn. Gauge his reaction.

Instead, his vision goes fuzzy.

He’s sitting on a sofa between Louis and Harry. He’s in a studio, an audience of people quieter than he’s ever seen all with their eyes fixed on them. Liam’s saying something about Zayn and he’s talking too fast, the way he always does when he’s upset and trying to hide it. Niall’s face hurts from trying to keep it blank and he grips his leg, keeping his mouth firmly shut. It feels like there’s something burning inside of his chest, ready to force it’s way out.

“Louis,” Harry says firmly, “shut _up.”_

Niall resists the urge to shake his head to clear his vision. His hand is lying limp next to him, pressed against Liam’s leg. He slides it back to his knee, gripping as tight as he dares.

Louis turns to look at Harry and Niall focuses on them. Niall doesn’t know how they do it. How they just know what the other means. The way that they can still seem to read the other’s mind and how desperately they wish they couldn’t. But Harry looks at Louis and Louis meets his gaze and they are both bleeding stubbornness. For a moment, Niall’s afraid Zayn isn’t the only one Louis will fight.

But Louis leans back, folding his arms across his chest. His chin is raised and his gaze is fixed out the window.

“We don’t have to make any decisions now, yeah?” Liam says softly. “We have plenty of time to figure it out.”

Niall doesn’t say anything. He can feel the beginning of something hot and unwieldy in his chest. He already knows how this is going to end.

 

* * *

 

Niall’s thumb is bleeding. He ripped the nail too far and now the blood is welling up in the corner - if he doesn’t get up and take care of it, it will get trapped under his nail. It’ll be days before he manages to get it cleaned properly.

He doesn’t move.

He presses the torn bit of his thumb against his index finger, focusing on the sting. Niall keeps pressing, biting his lip the more it hurts.

“The fuck are we supposed to do now?”

Niall ignores Louis. He focuses on his thumb, the way it doesn’t stop stinging even when he stops pressing it against his finger. He keeps his eyes fixed on the way the blood wells up again, slower this time.

“Lou - “

“No, Liam. Really,” Louis keeps going and his voice has razor blade edges, “what the fuck are we supposed to do?”

The silence hangs heavy between them. They got the call as soon as they stepped offstage. Niall still had his mic wrapped around the back of his neck when Alberto held out a phone to them. For a long minute, they all just stared at it. Usually it’s straight to the cars once they’re offstage to beat the fans out of the stadium.

None of them moved. They just stood and stared at the phone.

Louis was finally the one to take it. Niall knew exactly what happened from the look on his face.

“We still have a whole tour,” Harry says seriously.

“Thank you, Harry,” Louis snaps, “we couldn’t have figured that out ourselves. Thank you for pointing that out.”

Niall looks up from his thumb and Harry isn’t glaring at Louis, but it’s a near thing.

“You asked what we’re supposed to do. We still have a tour. We knew this would happen eventually. We already decided what to do.”

He sounds too calm. Niall presses his thumb against his finger again, focusing on the sting.

“Oh, so you mean you actually thought this is what was going to happen? You actually want to keep going onstage every night without him? It’s been three nights and we’re a fucking disaster.”

Harry doesn’t budge. Niall looks down. It’s better to stay in the moment. It’s better to focus on this. _It’s better, it’s better, it’s better,_ he tells himself.

“Louis, come on,” Liam says before Harry can reply. Niall glances up to see him try and touch Louis’ shoulder, but Louis wrenches himself backwards.

“Find me when we can actually leave,” he spits, stalking out of the dressing room.

Everything tilts and Niall’s vision blurs at the edges. He presses against his thumb sharply, but the pain is fading and it does nothing to keep him in the moment. Everything goes fuzzy and when it clears, he’s in a hallway. Backstage somewhere. Louis flinches away from him and walks away. He’s worried, knows Louis is hiding something. He’s afraid of what it might be.

The door slams shut. Niall is in one of their dressing rooms. He’s not in a hallway. Not right now.

“He has a point,” Niall says quietly. “We’ve sounded like shit.”

Liam looks at him with a frown. “It hasn’t been bad. We’ve not been our best, but - “

“Liam,” Niall interrupts, “we weren’t at our best when we started tour and that was before we had to cover his solos.”

Liam doesn’t reply. He looks down and frowns. They know he’s right. They were still tired at the start of tour, not enough time to recuperate before throwing themselves back into it all again. None of them were really giving it their all. Then Zayn went home and they have to scramble to cover for him when they already aren’t at their best.

Now he isn’t coming back.

“Then let’s fix it,” Harry finally says. “We can make it better. Fix what’s not working.”

“Yeah,” Liam says, latching onto it immediately, “we’ve got that break coming up. We just need to get through the next few shows, get more practice in than we have been, then we can fix things.”

Niall doesn’t think it will be that easy. They’ve got two months off from tour, but it’s not going to really be a break. They still have things to do. They have to write the entire next album and they aren’t the only ones that make decisions about the band. They don’t set their rehearsal schedule and any decisions that they do make have to be approved. They try to keep as much control as they can, but there’s too much happening for them to have a hand in it all.

There’s a knock on the door and Paddy opens it. “We’re about ready for you, lads.”

Liam sighs. “I’ll go find Tommo.”

NIall thinks of the way that Louis flinched away from Liam earlier, how Liam will probably go find him and use the same quiet voice that’s all gentle edges and placating tones.

“I can do it,” Niall says. He knows that Liam’s kindness will only aggravate Louis more, that it will grate against his nerves and make him want to lash out. It will make him feel like he’s being handled.

Louis hates when people try to handle him.

He finds Louis near the stage. There are still a few fans lingering in the stadium, the chatter of high voices carrying into the tunnel that’s just barely hidden behind the stage. He’s standing far enough back that even if there are fans in the seats closest to them that can see backstage, he’ll be hidden. His shoulder is pressed against the wall, arms crossed over his chest.

Niall doesn't hesitate. He walks up, standing right next to him. They’re close enough that if Louis moves away from the wall, their shoulders will bump. He shoves his hands in his pockets and his hurt thumb catches on the edge and stings.

“You think we’ll still have a tour?” Louis asks and his voice is low and sounds rough. “I mean, who says they won’t just rip up their tickets? This could be it. We don’t know how people are going to react. We might not have a tour to finish.”

“You really think that’s what’s gonna happen?”

Louis sighs and his jaw contorts. He turns to lean his back against the wall and pushes his hair off his face. He had it up in a quiff onstage, but it’s long since wilted.

“I don’t know. But it could. Even if it doesn’t, it might still be bad.”

“Yeah, it could,” he replies. “If it is, we can deal with it. No use worrying over what you can’t change.”

Louis doesn’t reply, keeps his eyes fixed on the stage. The tunnel still smells like smoke from the fireworks. The back of the stage rises up and out of sight ahead of them. Niall wants to say something more. Something about how there are things they _can_ change. That they should focus on those things instead.

He pulls his left hand free from his pocket instead. Reaches out and taps Louis on his chest. “It is what it is, right?”

Louis looks at him and can’t help but laugh. It’s short and barely there and he shakes his head. He still looks upset and tense, but he pushes off the wall and throws an arm around Niall’s shoulders. “They ready for us, then?”

“Yeah. Probably still be ages before we can get anywhere, though.”

They walk down the tunnel and away from the stage. Louis’ arm is heavy across his shoulders, holding him close. His hip bumps against Louis’ with every step.

 

* * *

 

Niall feels like his head is being split open. He’s tried medicine in increasingly larger doses, caffeine, drinking more water, no caffeine. He’s tried sleeping it off. None of it is working. He even tries some awful tea that Mark swears up and down would help.

None of it works. Niall hasn’t had headaches this bad since he was fourteen.

He’s afraid it has something to do with the flashes.

None of the tricks he taught himself are helping. He can’t stop them, can’t hold them back at all. He’s afraid he’ll get a flash onstage and fuck something up. It’s only been a few days since the last show - since they had to tell everyone _he’s gone for good, he’s not coming back_.

This show needs to work. They have to prove that they can do this.

Niall’s never had to worry about getting flashes onstage before and it’s making his head throb even harder. If focusing on the moment, if all his tricks to make it easier to handle aren’t working now, what if being onstage doesn’t work either? What if he gets a flash in the middle of a solo or when he’s playing guitar?

Louis drops onto the sofa heavily. Niall groans and presses his face against the arm of the sofa harder, pulling his feet up so Louis has room. The pressure against his head helps the throbbing a bit.

“Still got that headache?” Louis asks, shifting so his thigh presses against Niall’s feet.

“Yeah,” he mumbles. He can’t help sounding so miserable when he feels so miserable.

“Mind if I try something?”

Niall turns and eyes him warily. The last thing he needs to deal with right now is a willy scribbled on his face or something. But Louis is just looking at him, waiting. Niall can’t tell if he’s planning something or not.

“If I end up with something drawn on my face, you’ll regret it,” he finally says.

“I’m hurt, Nialler! Can’t believe you would accuse me of such a thing.”

Niall closes his eyes, pressing his head against the sofa again. “Definitely a faultless accusation. You’ve never done something like that before.”

“Course not. I’m a kind and benevolent soul. Now spin round.”

Niall opens his eyes and heaves himself up, groaning when his head spins. He’s onstage somewhere. It’s sunny and his chest aches and he’s cold, colder than he ever is onstage unless it’s raining. All he can hear are screams.

He hisses when something cold and wet touches the back of his neck. “Lean back a bit, yeah?” Louis says, voice soft. He has a hand on Niall’s shoulder, guiding him backwards. His neck curves around the water bottle and the shock of cold immediately helps the ache in his head.

Niall closes his eyes, resting his head on the back of the sofa. It shouldn’t help as much as it does. Nothing else has done shit. It’s just a water bottle on the back of his neck. It shouldn’t help as much as it does.

“Better?” Louis asks.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“Good,” Louis replies, “because I’ve started getting them too. Need to stop spreading that shit, love.”

Louis’ hand is still pressed against his shoulder. The warm weight of it feels like it’s grounding him, holding him down so he doesn’t float away. He’s so sick of the headaches and the flashes and constantly feeling lightheaded. The throbbing in his head is mostly gone and for the first time in days he doesn’t feel like he could blink and be somewhere else in a moment.

“What d’you think it’ll be like tonight?” Niall mumbles.

Louis’ hand stiffens on Niall’s shoulder. “Dunno,” he replies, voice quiet and small in a way Louis’ voice hardly ever is. “Gonna be different, now that they know this is how it is.”

Niall can hear the bitterness colour his tone even though it’s soft. Water trickles down the back of his neck, the water bottle starting to sweat with condensation.

“Lou,” Niall murmurs, “why’re you so worried ‘bout the fans leaving?”

Louis sighs and presses closer to Niall, shifting in his seat. His hand slides from Niall’s shoulder to his wrist. Niall’s right side feels warm.

“We’ve always said Zayn’s voice gives us an edge,” he says, and his voice is quiet and harsh all at once. It’s rough against the softness of the sofa and the cold relief of the water bottle. “Now we don’t have him, but we still have to cover his parts. Might not be good enough for a lot of people.”

“So? Fuck ‘em.”

Louis laughs, sharp and short. The real kind of laugh that he can never help and always tries to pretend didn’t happen. “If enough people think that, we’ll be out of a job.”

“Please,” Niall scoffs. “Lou, you’ll still have a job in music when the rest of us are in a home. Harry’ll still be selling off songs left and right. Liam’ll be out remixing all the songs on the radio or producing them and you’ll have a hand in half of them.”

“Where are you, then?”

Niall shrugs and the water bottle slips a bit. “I’ll be in a home singing our greatest hits,” he jokes.

Louis doesn’t reply and Niall opens his eyes to look at him. He’s looking off to the side, mouth thin and his fingers twitch against Niall’s wrist. It’s the first time since they stood in the tunnel at the stadium in Jakarta that Louis has looked anything but annoyed or angry at the idea that there’s only four of them now.

“Lou?”

He sighs and lifts his hand from Niall’s wrist, pushing his hair out of his eyes before rubbing at his thigh.

“I want to do that someday,” he says, “but I don’t want to stop performing yet. I want to keep writing music for _us,_ keep going onstage every night. I don’t want it to end just because Zayn fucked off. Dunno, I just... there’s plenty of time to do producing and help other artists, yeah? Can do that when I need a walker to get ‘round. I want to keep touring. Keep doing this as long as we can.”

Niall blinks. It isn’t often that Louis gets so genuinely sincere, especially when he’s scared or angry. Niall knows he can’t draw attention to it. Louis always gets embarrassed whenever he gets sincere, goes quiet and tries to make you forget he said anything at all.

“It’ll be all right,” he says, knowing how useless it sounds. Niall suddenly has the urge to tell Louis about the flashes - tell him about the interview and the stage. The things that make him feel like they might be all right, even though it hurts.

He doesn’t say anything. The flashes don’t always come true. He never really feels like he’s afraid they’re all going to fall apart in the flashes, but he doesn’t _know_ those will come true. Niall won’t make promises to Louis that he can’t keep.

“Just have to go out there and smash it tonight, yeah? Show ‘em all that we can do this. That we aren’t going anywhere and neither should they.”

Louis finally turns to look at him. He rolls his eyes, but his mouth twists. Niall has to hold back a grin. Louis tries so hard to hide whenever he’s properly pleased. Niall wonders if he realises how much of an open book he is to all of them.

“Oh? Is that all?”

“I mean, I know we haven’t been our best,” he says, “but we’re better than we were in Florida without him. We can do it. We just have to really smash it tonight, yeah?”

Louis looks at him seriously. “You really think it’ll be all right? Honestly.”

Niall shifts, slouching a bit so his head isn’t at as sharp of an angle and he can look at Louis more easily. Louis moves with him, making sure the water bottle stays on the back of his neck. Louis’ eyes are careful on him, watching to make sure that he’s okay.

“Yeah,” Niall says quietly, “I think we might be.”

Louis keeps his eyes on Niall. He feels warm under Louis’ gaze. Comfortable and looked after. Finally, Louis nods. “Just go out there and smash it?”

Niall grins. “Easy, right?”

Louis rolls his eyes and pushes off the sofa. “How’s the head? Ready for all those screams when we’re out there smashing it?”

Niall reaches behind him, steadying the water bottle now that Louis isn’t holding onto it anymore. “Don’t know about that,” he says, leaning forward and rolling his neck carefully. “Feels better, though. Thanks.”

Louis doesn’t reply and Niall looks up at him. Sometimes he wishes that he could read minds instead. Knowing what’s going on inside Louis’ head whenever he looks at Niall like this would be more helpful than flashes of a future that might not happen. He always manages to convince himself that Louis is an open book, and he _is_. He is so often.

But then he looks at Niall like this. Serious like he’s reading one of their contracts, but soft like Niall’s done something incredible even when he hasn’t done anything at all. Niall never knows what to make of it.

“Should probably see where the other boys have gotten to, yeah? John will probably be looking for us by now.”

Niall nods and pulls the water bottle off his neck. His head still aches a bit, but he feels like he can see straight. He doesn’t feel like he’ll end up in the middle of a flash if he blinks. Louis throws an arm around his shoulders, more careful than he would normally be.

They don’t need to find the other boys. They’re ushered straight to the cars, Alberto directing security and giving Louis a look. Louis laughs and lets go of Niall, climbing into the first car with Liam. Niall rolls his eyes and gets into the back of the second car, closing the door behind him.

“All right, Nialler?” Harry asks, looking up from his phone.

Niall nods. “Yeah. Lou did a trick with a water bottle. Head don’t hurt so much now.”

Harry nods, but doesn’t reply. He’s slouched in his seat and turning his phone over in his hands. Mark gets into the front seat and starts the car. Niall keeps his eyes fixed on Harry.

“You all right?”

He glances up and Niall can see him try to grin. It’s a pathetic attempt. He should really know better.

“No,” Niall interrupts. “Don’t bullshit. Are you all right?”

Harry sighs and runs a hand through his hair, fidgeting in his seat. They get out of the hotel’s  parking garage and Niall blinks at the sunlight.

“H?”

Harry closes his eyes and turns, resting his head on Niall’s shoulder. Niall immediately starts to shift, making it easier for him to bend.

He doesn’t say anything. Niall can feel the way that his muscles are tight with nerves and something else. Even after all these years, they still get nervous and jittery before going onstage. This is different. Tonight is different. Tonight they have more to worry about, more of a reason to be nervous.

Niall reaches over to squeeze Harry’s knee. His head is throbbing again. “Tell me we can do this,” Harry says, voice quiet and serious and scared. “Just….tell me. Even if it’s a lie.”

“We can do this,” Niall says without hesitating. “ _You_ can do this.”

For a moment, Harry is still stiff next to him. Niall knows that they each deal with the stage differently. Figuring out how to play for a stadium wasn’t easy and they all do it differently. None of them have managed to figure it out quite as well as Harry.

“You’ll be great, Haz,” he murmurs, bending to press his cheek against the top of Harry’s head. “Don’t worry so much.”

Harry relaxes against him and Niall uses his free hand to pat his arm. “Thanks, Ni,” he says.

“Anytime,” he replies. “Now, if you’re gonna cuddle, then do it proper.”

Harry laughs and it’s the high-pitched squawk he can never seem to help. He twists so he can hook his arms around Niall’s waist. He feels good. Warm and relaxed and comfortable. It makes Niall feel a little more grounded, knowing Harry feels okay. His head is still throbbing. He leans his head back and closes his eyes.

“Lads,” Mark says after a few minutes and he sounds like he’s smiling, “might want to take a look.”

Niall opens his eyes and looks out the window. Harry sits up and they stare silently, mouths gaping.

The stadium looms in front of them and Niall gapes at the sea of people.

“How many - “

“Dunno,” Harry replies, sounding just as dumbstruck. “There’s not usually this many waiting outside, are there?”

Niall shakes his head. “No. Not usually.”

There are throngs of people waiting outside. More people than Niall can even guess a number at. They drive past them, screams erupting and following them as they go. Niall can’t think. He can’t fathom the amount of people waiting outside. The gates aren’t even open yet, won’t be for another two or three hours. There’s usually a lot, but it’s never been like this before.

Why are they all here?

Mark gets them inside the stadium and they stumble out. They’re immediately rushed by Louis and Liam. “Did you see that?” Liam asks, unable to keep his excitement or awe out of his voice.

“Hard to miss, innit?” Harry replies, still sounding shell-shocked.

“What’s the capacity for FNB, Nialler?” Louis asks. There’s a manic glint in his eye.

Niall wracks his sluggish brain. “For a concert? Dunno. 90, 95 thousand?”

“Did we sell that many tickets?” Liam asks incredulously.

“C’mon, lads,” Alberto interrupts, “best get inside.”

Usually, the hours before a show feel long and stretched thin. Constantly trying to find a new distraction to shake the nerves or in a meet and greet. Tonight the hours feel like they fly by. Before he knows it, Connor is helping him get his mic and guitar sorted.

Harry is standing off to the side - always goes quiet before a show. Louis is messing with Liam, snatching his hat off his head and replacing it with whatever is closest or putting it back on crooked. Liam keeps trying to look stern, but he can’t help but laugh.

Niall keeps his eyes fixed on them while he helps get his mic in place. Liam looks relaxed and Niall wonders if Louis can keep it up. Seeing Liam stressed and unhappy isn’t something any of them like to see, but it’s always harder to shake him out of it. He worries too much and then he can’t let it go until he finds a way to make whatever is worrying him better.

When Connor pats him on the shoulder, he thanks them quick before moving to Harry. He stands next to him for a moment, plucking the strings of his guitar idly. Finally, Harry lifts his head and grins at Niall. He slings an arm around his shoulders and Niall twists his neck, making sure Harry’s arm isn’t pulling on any of the cords for his mic or in-ears.

Liam and Louis join them in an instant and Liam slings an arm around Harry’s shoulders. Louis is grinning as he presses himself against Niall’s side. Niall’s head still feels too light, too sore. He tries to focus on Louis and not on the way that they’re pressed so much closer when they do this now, trying to fill in the extra space.

“All right, then, lads,” Louis says as the screams become deafening and the intro music starts to play. He turns to look at each of them and Niall watches as his eyes lock on Harry’s. Harry nods and Niall can’t help but wonder what they managed to say. It’s been years and he still can’t figure them out.

“No pressure,” he continues, “but 95 thousand people are out there right now. Everyone’s going to look at us tonight and want answers. We fuck this up and all the papers tomorrow will be about how we’ll be breaking up before the week is out.”

The intro music transitions into the hook of No Control and Niall shakes his head. “Best get to the pep part of this talk, Tommo.” He has to shout over the music and the screams.

Louis raises an eyebrow at him. “So we’re going out there and smashing it. Prove all those fuckers wrong. Let’s make them work for the scandal they want. 95 thousand people and they’re all out there for us. Let’s fucking do this, all right?”

Niall can’t tear his eyes away from Louis, not even when he puts his hand in the middle. It’s sandwiched between Liam’s and Louis’ and it’s like Niall can feel the tension from his headache fall away. He doesn’t know how Louis does it. How he pulls them all in and makes them believe him, even if he doesn’t believe it himself.

He only manages to look away when the smoke clears and they’re heading down the ramp and he’s staring out at a sea of people.

He’s almost halfway through the show before he sees what the signs say. He’s belting out Zayn’s solo in “Ready to Run” and trying not to think about how high it is for him and how tight his voice must sound. Trying not to think about how much _fun_ it is to sing, even if he sounds shit singing it.

He looks out at the crowd and catches sight of the signs. _Till the end._ The words stands out as far as he can see and he has to look away, has to turn so he’s facing the stage and the band. He can feel his throat going tight while Harry sings and pinpricks starting to sting behind his eyes. He’s not sure if it’s tears or a headache.

They all stand in a line during Harry’s solo, no longer a v-formation when that’s all they’ve been for years. It’s how they’ve always stood for this song, the same every time. It doesn’t fit now. It doesn’t fit, so they stand in a line instead and it feels wrong, but Harry slings an arm around his shoulders and pulls him in close. He looks over and Liam has his arms wrapped tight around Harry and Louis.

Niall feels overwhelmed. He misses Zayn so much he _aches._ They’re wrapped up tight in each other and they’re trying to pull each other close to fill in the gap. Stay close so no one notices the space that’s missing.

He isn’t sure if it’s working or not.

 

* * *

 

Niall wakes up to pounding on his door.

He doesn’t realise it’s the door at first. His head is still aching. The throbbing comes and goes, but he still hasn’t been able to shake the headaches. The flashes won’t stop either, but he doesn’t know why. Usually a little bit of pain helps keeps flashes away. But he keeps getting them even though his head is throbbing.

“Niall! I don’t have a key, open up!”

Niall groans at the sound of Liam’s voice. It’s too early. He doesn’t know what time it is, but it’s too early for whatever it is.

“Go ‘way, Payno, I’m sleeping,” he shouts back, pulling his blanket up over his head.

It’s quiet for a minute and Niall thinks Liam left to go bother Louis or Harry. Then his phone starts ringing. He groans and lets it ring for a moment before the noise is too much for his head.

“What d’ya want?”

“Check your twitter and let me in,” Liam says before hanging up again.

Niall stares at his phone for a moment, only able to blink at it. “You’re spending too much time with Louis!”

“Check twitter!” Liam shouts back.

Niall rolls his eyes, but opens it up anyway. He scrolls aimlessly for a minute, not sure what he’s supposed to be looking for that’s so important.

“Are you looking?”

“You realise that ‘check twitter’ isn’t as easy as you seem to think, right? What am I looking - shit.”

Niall groans and pushes the blankets back, pulling himself out of bed to unlock the door. Liam slips in immediately, hair messy but at least dressed.

“What was he thinking?” Liam asks immediately.

Niall closes the door behind him, scrolling through the whole spat and shaking his head. “Pretty clear what he was thinking, Li.”

Liam looks at him in disbelief. “He shouldn’t have said any of that - “

“He was winding up the fans. You know how Louis is. Probably shouldn’t have gone on about it, but it’s Tommo.”

He knows that Liam isn’t trying to blow this out of proportions. He knows that he’s genuinely concerned. But even though Niall didn’t get any flashes about it, he knew that something like this was going to happen. Louis is too upset and too angry to not do something rash. It’s not like Louis hasn’t done worse before.

Liam gives him a look and starts to pace. Niall sighs and goes to his suitcase, grabbing jeans and a shirt. “Let me get dressed first, yeah? Then we can go fight with Louis.”

“We’re not going so we can _fight_ with him,” Liam protests.

Niall turns and raises an eyebrow at him. “You really think this is going to end any differently?”

Liam looks away. Niall busies himself with getting dressed, almost doesn’t hear Liam when he’s pulling his shirt on over his head. “You think we should get Harry?”

He pulls his shirt down and fixes Liam with a stare. “You think Harry’s going to be able to help with this?”

“We shouldn’t leave him out - “

“Liam,” Niall interrupts, “this isn’t about _leaving him out._ I’m only going so Louis doesn’t slam the door in your face.”

Liam nods, but looks down at his phone with a frown. Niall knows this isn’t going to end well. Louis isn’t going to see why Liam is so upset. He’s going to defend himself and get mad when Liam thinks it was stupid. If they take Harry with them, it will only make things worse. If there’s one thing that drives Louis absolutely mad, it’s how Harry deals with confrontation.

Which is to not deal with it at all.

If they all show up at Louis’ door, it won’t matter what Niall does. He’ll slam the door in their face. Even if they manage to get in to talk to them, he won’t listen.

“You realise this is the stupidest idea, don’t you?” he asks. “Lou won’t listen to you, especially if you go in meaning to tell him off.”

“I don’t want to tell him off,” Liam protests. “But this isn’t… we can’t be doing this right now! Especially not with someone Zayn is hanging out with.”

Niall shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, but you don’t want to tell him off.”

Liam frowns at him and Niall would feel bad, but Liam doesn’t get it. No matter how many hours he and Louis spend holed up together writing songs or laughing together, he just doesn’t understand Louis when Louis is angry. It doesn’t matter, usually, because Liam and Louis are so rarely at odds anymore. But he doesn’t understand how Louis gets when he’s upset and angry.

“This is important!”

“It’s _Twitter,”_ Niall replies. “It’ll get a few articles in tabloids and shit, but they’ll give up on it. Hell, they’ve probably already given up on it. Headlines will be all about the new Zayn Malik track.”

Liam looks at him and Niall sighs. He knows that he’s right. No matter Liam’s intentions, he’s right about how this is going to end. He knows that this is going to end with shouting and with his head throbbing and the flashes coming quicker than ever.

But none of them can resist Liam. They try. Sometimes they can talk him out of whatever he’s got his mind set on. But none of them can ever say no.

“Are we going or not?”

He heads straight for Louis’ room, but Liam pauses in the hallway. Niall’s vision goes fuzzy. He’s looking at his phone. He only has a second to see that it’s a tweet from Zayn before he shoves it back into his pocket. He can feel the anger boiling up inside him, a rage that’s vicious and violent and too much to keep in.

Niall blinks and Liam is still looking at him.

“Well, go get him, then,” he says, trying to sound normal. His voice sounds tight and strangled in his throat.

Liam turns towards Harry’s room, but Niall doesn’t move. He isn’t sure if he can. He tries to tell himself that the flashes aren’t always true. He’s seen loads of things that never happen. The flashes always feel like they’re inevitable, but they don’t have to be. This one doesn’t have to be. It doesn’t have to happen.

He can’t manage to convince himself it won’t, though.

Niall doesn’t _want_ to be angry at Zayn. He might not really understand why he left, but he can respect the decision. He can respect that Zayn felt like he needed to leave. It doesn’t have to break them. They can survive it and they can make it through this without losing a brother.

Niall’s afraid they’re already starting to break. That the cracks are widening and nothing he can do will mend them.

He closes his eyes and shoves his hands in his pockets to stop himself from biting his nails. He can stop that from happening. If he could stop his dad from falling off the ladder when he was fifteen, he can stop them from hating Zayn. Just because the five of them aren’t all in the band anymore doesn’t mean things have to change.

Niall tries not to think about how Zayn hasn’t answered a single one of his texts.

Louis opens his door bleary-eyed and rumpled looking. “The fuck?”

Niall pushes past him. “Liam’s called a band meeting.” He throws himself onto the sofa, pressing his palm against his head. It won’t stop throbbing. He wishes it would stop aching all the time.

“I’m not apologising,” Louis says with a scowl. “He was - “

“I’m not the one who called the meeting,” Niall interrupts. “I know why you did it.”

Louis eyes him with a dark look. Niall is so tired. He doesn’t have the energy to get mad at Louis for not thinking or Liam for overthinking or Harry for trying to avoid it all.

“But you don’t agree,” Louis snaps. “You know why I called out that prick, but you don’t think I should have.”

Niall sighs and raises an eyebrow at Louis. “I think he was looking to get a reaction out of us and going after the fans was the easiest way to do it.”

“I’m not going to just sit around and say nothing. It’s bad enough that we haven’t said anything about - “

“I _know,_ Lou. All right?”

Louis doesn’t reply. The quiet stretches out between them. It feels thin and fragile, like if Niall says something they might both shatter at the noise. Louis turns to sit on the edge of the bed. He reaches up and for a moment Niall thinks it’s just to fix his hair. But he doesn’t touch his hair like he usually does. He closes his eyes and rubs his head.

Niall wants to ask if he has a headache too. He wants to know if the pounding in his own head could be as simple to explain as changes in weather or air pressure. Something to do with the constant trans-continental flights. Maybe even as simple as getting a cold. Something _normal._

He doesn’t want the headaches to be connected to the flashes. He just wants it to be something normal. But Niall is starting to think there can’t be any other explanation. Headaches don’t last this long.

Liam’s knock on the door breaks the silence. Louis doesn’t move.

Niall waits for a moment, but when Liam knocks again he gets up. His head spins, but his vision doesn’t blur. He opens the door and Liam immediately slips inside. Harry isn’t with him.

“He’s not in his room,” Liam says, sounding worried.

“Probably just in the gym, Li,” Niall says, closing the door behind him.

He turns around and Louis is standing, eyes narrowed and shoulders tense. “He had it coming.”

Niall skirts around Liam, moving over to the sofa. He sits on the arm of it, ready to intercede if he needs to. His head is still pounding - he has to struggle to keep his eyes open.

“It doesn’t matter, Lou.” Liam’s voice is soft and gentle. Too gentle for Louis right now. “Getting into a Twitter war with someone Zayn’s hanging out with won’t help anything.”

“Oh, but shutting up will? Not saying anything at all? When has that ever helped?”

Niall sighs and folds his arms across his chest. “I thought we were making them work for a scandal,” he says.

Louis stares at him and Niall sighs again. The last thing he wants to do is make any of this worse. “Look. I get it, all right? He’s an asshole. He’s getting a laugh out of upsetting a bunch of young girls. But no matter what you say or do, he’s just going to use it to hurt the fans more.”

Niall knows that Liam wants to say something, but he doesn’t. Louis keeps staring at him and Niall can tell that he’s trying to muster up more anger. Louis wants a fight. He wants to scream and shout. But he knows that Niall is right, even if he doesn’t want to admit it.

“The longer we go without saying something, the faster fans are going to piss off. We haven’t said shit about it. Even if we lie and say everything is fine, we have to say _something._ They deserve at least that much.

“We will,” Liam says, putting a hand on Louis’ shoulder, “just have to finish this leg of the tour, yeah? Then we can find someone good to do an interview. Do it proper.”

Niall remembers suddenly the flash he had all those months ago. When Zayn told them he wanted to quit. He can never seem to remember the details of the flashes afterwards, normally, but he can remember the way Liam talked too fast and how there were only four of them on the sofa. He can remember how much more space there was and how wrong it felt.

“I’m going to see if I can track down Harry,” Liam says softly. “Just... lie low today?”

Louis rolls his eyes. “I’m not a fucking idiot, Li.”

“I know,” Liam replies, voice still gentle and sincere. Niall doesn’t know how Liam keeps it up. How he can still be so unerringly kind even in the face of Louis’ tetchiest moods. Niall tries to be patient, but sometimes he just can’t manage to be around other people. He doesn’t know how Liam manages it.

Even when Liam is angry, he still always manages to be kind.

Liam uses the hand already on Louis’ shoulder to drag him into a hug. Niall has seen all the boys hug a thousand times. He knows that they all fit together in different ways. The way he and Louis hug is different from the way Liam and Harry hug. He knows exactly how each of them look when they hug.

Louis is not hugging Liam the way Niall knows he usually does

Liam and Louis always seem to collide when they hug. They don’t hesitate and don’t hold back and their hugs always feel like the crash of one of Josh’s cymbals, percussive and loud.

They almost always hug in a way that makes Liam smaller than Louis. Unless Liam is hugging Louis in order to restrain him, he always seems to curl around Louis in a way that makes him seem smaller than he really is. Louis has always been good at making himself seem bigger than he is, but the way he hugs Liam is the best way he manages it.

This hug is different. Louis is trying to make himself small in Liam’s hug.

Louis, always on his tiptoes and always trying to look bigger, is turning in on himself to make himself smaller in Liam’s embrace.

Liam doesn’t seem to notice. He doesn’t see the way Louis blinks and looks dazed when Liam steps back. But Niall notices. He notices and knows how strange it is.

Louis sits down on the edge of the bed as Liam closes the door. He isn’t facing Niall, but Niall still knows that something is very wrong.

“Lou? Everything all right?”

He doesn’t answer right away and Niall leans forward. He isn’t sure why this feels so wrong, but it does. Something changed in the last few minutes and Niall doesn’t know what. He doesn’t know what could make Louis go from so angry it shines off of him to so quiet and small so fast.

“Yeah,” Louis finally says. “Dunno. Just... me head feels all funny.”

Niall bites at his bottom lip. He hates this. He hates how afraid he is all the time. How he isn’t sure how they all fit together anymore. It all used to come so easy and it all feels impossible now. Louis could be lying to him, or he could really just have a headache. He hates that he can’t tell anymore. He hates that there’s a part of him that hates Zayn for doing this to them.

He hates that even though he knows he shouldn’t, part of him _wants_ to be mad at Zayn. But he can’t even manage that properly. It wasn’t a decision Zayn made lightly, even if he won’t talk to any of them now.

Niall doesn’t know how to fix any of this. But he wants to. He doesn’t know if they can go back to how they were, but Niall wants to make sure they don’t break anymore.

“Let’s get some breakfast, yeah? Then we can nap for a bit.”

Louis looks up at him and Niall can see how exhausted he really is. Niall wishes he could do something to help him. Find a way to make all of this easier on Louis. Everyone always says he’s so good at lifting people’s moods, but Niall knows that isn’t true. Not really. Louis has always been the one that can cheer everyone up.

Niall can be loud. He can be happy and can support his friends. He can distract and he can listen if someone needs him. Niall can be there for them so they can make things better for themselves. Usually that’s enough. It’s always felt like enough before.

It doesn’t feel like enough right now.

“All right, then, Nialler, if you want to cuddle that badly we can have a nap.”

Niall laughs and he can ignore the throbbing in his head for a few seconds. The strange look in Louis’ eyes fade. He’s smirking, reaching for the room service menu.

Breakfast passes in a blur. His head is aching and he’s chilly, the air conditioning in Louis’ room turned up higher than normal. Louis pushes the cart of empty plates away while Niall kicks off his trainers. Something hits him in the back of the head and he turns and glares.

“Don’t need you catching a cough just because you can’t handle a bit of cold,” Louis says, throwing himself onto the bed.

Niall stares at the jumper lying on the floor. He picks it up and pulls it on, but he keeps scowling at Louis. “You’re the one that’s always cold. Why the fuck you have it so high?”

He shrugs and wriggles under the duvet. Niall raises an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to still. Louis matches his expression once he stops moving, mirroring him perfectly, and Niall can’t help but laugh.

“I’m turning this off. Last thing we need for the show tomorrow are dry throats.”

Louis rolls his eyes, but doesn’t stop Niall from changing the thermostat. He climbs into bed next to Louis, immediately shuffling closer. He curls up on his side and presses his forehead against Louis’ back. He doesn’t wrap himself around Louis like he would if he were napping with Harry, but he presses close.

“Comfy?” Louis asks, the sarcasm on the edges of his voice gentle.

Niall grins and closes his eyes. “Yeah, thanks.”

Louis grumbles, but Niall doesn’t pay any attention. His head finally feels like it isn’t going to split open. It’s been so hard to fall asleep lately, the pounding in his head keeping him up. His head moves whenever Louis breathes and the the motion should make his head spin, with how much it’s been hurting lately.  But it doesn’t. He can feel Louis’ heart against his back, even through the jumper, and it beats against his head.

It’s easy to fall asleep when he can feel Louis’ heartbeat against the ache in his head.

 

* * *

 

 Something is still wrong with Louis.

It’s a show day, so everything is hectic. They have almost everything down to a science now, but whenever it comes time to actually get ready for a show there always seems to be chaos. It’s easy to get lost in it or to find a few moments to yourself. It isn’t hard to slip away with all the noise and motion and find a quiet corner somewhere.

Usually, it’s Niall or Harry that slips away. Liam and Louis are loud and exuberant before a show, feeding off each other’s energy. Sometimes they even use that energy to warm up or be productive, but most of the time it devolves into loud laughter that fills the corners of every room or racing around hallways and dodging in between people.

Niall steps into the green room and Louis is nowhere to be seen. Niall knows he isn’t with Liam - Liam’s with Lou getting his hair fixed and Louis wasn’t there either.

He’s been absent all day. Before they got to the stadium, he stayed in his hotel room. Didn’t answer Niall’s texts. It’s not unusual, exactly. But it’s odd. Especially with the way Louis acted yesterday.

Niall’s worried. It’s usually pretty easy to figure out what’s bothering Louis. He never hides it well. Always manages to make whatever is upsetting him obvious. But Niall has no idea what could be causing him to act like this - why he’s gone so quiet and solitary.

“Looking for something?”

Niall turns at the sound of Harry’s voice. He’s lounging in one of the armchairs, his phone in one hand. Niall shakes his head and shrugs. “Just don’t know where Louis got to.”

Harry shrugs and leans back in his seat, flipping his phone over in his hand. Niall can tell that he’s working himself up to say something. So he waits. Stands inside the doorway and waits for Harry to speak.

“Li said you two talked to him ‘bout the Twitter thing,” he says, forcing his voice to be even and casual.

“I mean, we talked about it, yeah,” Niall replies. “Didn’t really say much of use? You know Lou. Hates being told to keep quiet at things.

“Not like he’s done a good job of it lately,” Harry says darkly, unlocking his phone and starting to scroll aimlessly.

Niall frowns. “Harry - “

He shakes his head before Niall can say anything else. “You know he didn’t need to do that. _He_ knows he didn’t need to do it. He’s trying to get a rise out of Zayn.”

“It’s not just that,” Niall says, words sticking in his throat.

“No. But it’s part of it.”

The words feel sour. They make Niall want to argue, say that Harry’s wrong even though they both know he’s right. Part of those tweets were Louis trying to goad Zayn into saying something. He’s sure that anyone could see that. But Niall knows that it was more than that too. Louis wouldn’t have said anything if Zayn’s friend hadn’t gone after their fans. He would have been snide and sarcastic and would still have said things he shouldn’t. But he wouldn’t have been so obvious.

Niall knows Harry won’t hear any of it.

“Can you blame him?”

Harry shrugs and seems to curl in on himself even though he hardly moves. Niall sighs and leans against the side of the sofa. His head is still aching and he’s too afraid of what might be causing it to see a doctor. The last time he had headaches this bad, he started getting the flashes. If the headaches _are_ connected to the flashes, he doesn’t want anyone to find out. He’s afraid of what a doctor might find if they look too close.

He’s never felt like he had to worry about the flashes before. They were just something weird that happened every now and then. Nothing that couldn’t be brushed off. He doesn’t know what to do now that they’re getting worse. Now that they might be something he needs to worry about.

“Just don’t think we should be showing the world... everything, you know? This is bad enough. Don’t need everyone trying to nose in.”

Niall wishes, sometimes, that he didn’t understand his bandmates as much as he does. It might be easier. He knows how much Harry hates having things broadcasted to everyone. He knows that no matter how much Harry loves being onstage, no matter how much he loves performing every night to thousands, that one day it might not be enough anymore. One day the tabloids and never-ending rumours might be too much. One day the job he loves so much might not be worth the sacrifices.

Niall hopes he never has to see that happen. Whether it’s in a flash or not.

“Pretending it’s all okay isn’t going to help anything, Haz,” Niall says softly. “It won’t fix it. It’ll just get worse.”

Harry finally looks up from his phone and he narrows his eyes. It isn’t a glare, exactly. But it’s close. “Letting everyone know we aren’t okay won’t fix it either.”

Niall sighs and rubs his head. Everything feels so wrong. He knows that Harry’s right. They can’t pretend it’s all okay, but they can’t let people know just how wrecked they are either. Every time Niall thinks about having to talk about Zayn in front of a camera, he freezes up. He doesn’t want to worry fans. They don’t deserve that. But he doesn’t want to pretend it’s all okay when it isn’t.

He wishes that talking to Harry didn’t feel so hard. He can’t remember if it felt like this before Zayn left or not. Maybe it was and he just never noticed. The same way he didn’t notice how bad things were for Zayn. How he didn’t let himself see that when Zayn went home, it was him leaving for good.

He should have known. He should have been able to see.

He opens his eyes and his vision blurs.

His head is swimming. He can hear a crowd, but he’s backstage. Someone is hovering next to him, but he can’t tell who. He’s bent over, trying to keep his stomach from churning. Trying to will his head to stop spinning so much. He can hear the boys onstage, can hear them singing, but he can’t focus on it. He should be out there, but he can’t see straight. Someone is trying to shove a water bottle into his hand and he knows he should take it, knows it’s just the heat, but it’s too much.

He has to get back out there. They can’t afford this, not with everyone watching. Not with all the rumours, all the fear, all the questions. He has to get back out there.

He opens his eyes and Harry is frowning at him.

He tries to say something, tell Harry it’s fine. His head is still spinning. He doesn’t know if he can stay on his feet, doesn’t know if he feels so dizzy from the flash or if there’s something actually wrong with him.

Harry has his hands on Niall’s elbows before Niall can find out if he’ll pass out or not. His hands feel solid and real, like they’re the only thing holding Niall up. He focuses on Harry, on the way he’s holding Niall up.

“All right?” Harry asks, guiding him back to sit down again.

Niall closes his eyes and sits, but Harry’s hands linger. He feels untethered, like if Harry lets go of him he’ll disappear. He’s afraid if he opens his eyes he won’t see Harry at all, but another flash of somewhere else. Something else. Some _time_ else.

“Niall,” Harry says firmly, “what do you need?”

“Dunno,” he manages. “My head’s all…”

He trails off and Harry’s hands tighten around his elbows, gripping too tight. For a moment, his head is clear. He opens his eyes and blinks. Nothing spins. He looks up at Harry and everything is okay.

Maybe it was just the headache. His head already hurt and then he had a flash where he felt ill. It’s okay now. It wasn’t real. He’s fine now.

Harry straightens, his hands sliding away from Niall.

As soon as Harry let’s go, his vision blurs. He closes his eyes. He doesn’t know if it’s a flash or not. He feels ill. Too hot and dizzy and he can’t think straight.

Very suddenly, the room feels smaller than before. It’s too small and too hot and he can feel the heat pressing against him. Too close and too heavy and rubbing against his skin all wrong. Panic starts to claw at his ribs and he can feel his heart pounding against his throat. He’s never been afraid of the flashes before. Even when he first got them, he was more confused than afraid.

Now he’s terrified.

What if the next time he has a flash, he’s properly hurt? What if he blinks and the broken arm that was just a future that might be is suddenly reality? What if it happens in front of people? One minute he’s standing there and fine and the next he needs a hospital. What would they do with him? What would they say? What if he’s in front of fans or a camera?

“What happened?” Liam’s voice breaks through the haze. Harry’s answer fades into an indistinct murmur. Niall can’t tell if he’s just speaking lowly or if it’s Niall. His ears feel like they’re full of cotton, sound coming in and out in waves. One minute it’s crystal clear and and too loud and hurts like knives, the next it’s like hearing the ocean in a seashell. His skin feels prickly and too sensitive, chafing against the hot air.

Someone touches his arm and he flinches away. He knows that the touch was nothing but gentle. It was still too much. Too heavy. Too close, too warm. It’s all too much.

Harry and Liam are talking and Niall doesn’t want to listen. He doesn’t want to hear them try and figure out what’s wrong with him. They’ll only get it wrong. He’s never told anyone about the flashes, never thought it was important enough to tell anyone, and now he can’t stop panicking and none of them know why. They don’t understand. They can’t, they don’t know, they don’t get it, they _can’t_ get it because he never said anything -

“The fuck are you standing there for?” Louis’ voice cuts through the fog filling up his head. “Harry, get a wet flannel. Liam, go get some cold water.”

Even though Niall doesn’t open his eyes, he knows that Louis is in front of him.

“Nialler,” he says in the same clear voice, this time with a softer edge, “stop thinking. Big brain’s making it all worse, yeah? Lean forward for me.”

Niall doesn’t know if he _can_ stop thinking. His head feels foggier than before and his chest is still tight, too tight to take a breath, too tight to move, too tight too tight too -

Fingertips brush his shoulders. The touch is muted by his shirt, light enough that he can bear it. Louis guides him forward until his head is hanging, arms braced against his legs.

“There’s a lad,” Louis says, moving his hands from his shoulders before Niall has even finished leaning forward. “We’ve got you. Nothing to be worried about that can’t be fixed.”

His voice sounds different, tighter than before. Niall doesn’t know what’s changed. Can he tell that something is wrong with him? Something that isn’t just a head rush or dehydration or whatever they think this could be. Can Louis see that this isn’t normal anxiety?

“Here,” Harry says, and his voice sounds less muffled than before.

“Thanks, H,” Louis says softly. “Gonna try and cool you off a bit, Niall, all right?”

Niall doesn’t reply, doesn’t know if he can. He feels something cool and damp across the back of his neck. He has to fight the urge to flinch. The cloth is too rough against his skin, but it’s so cool and it makes the air around him feel like it isn’t as close or hot as before. Water trickles down his neck and he suddenly realises he’s sweltering, that it’s not the room that’s hot it’s _him._

“Just focus on that, all right? Got some water when you think you can drink.”

Niall’s head feels heavy now. Thick and too full instead of dizzy. He nods, still not sure if he can speak. The connection between his head and neck feels farther away than before and it makes his head throb.

But his chest is starting to loosen up, the terror and panic abating just enough. He feels like he can breathe again, even if the panic is still gripping at his ribcage and throbbing in his pulse. But it’s the kind he can almost control, the kind he can try to smother and pretend isn’t there.

He can feel Liam hovering next to him and Harry looming in front of him, his shadow blocking out the bright fluorescent light. He knows Louis is close enough to touch, ready for whatever Niall needs. Ready to pull him up and get him out into the air or to send Liam running for more water or have Harry call someone to help.

His gratefulness for them crashes over him like a wave. He doesn’t know what he would do without them. Doesn’t want to know. Doesn’t want to have a life where they aren’t at his fingertips if he needs them.

He tries not to think about how he might have to figure it out.

He reaches out and Louis puts a water bottle in his waiting hand. He’s careful, making sure the only thing Niall touches is the plastic bottle, condensation making his fingers slip against the sides.

Niall appreciates it. He likes knowing that Louis understands how he can’t handle being touched when he’s so anxious. He likes that Louis understands it without Niall having to explain. But he doesn’t want the water bottle right now.

He moves his hand up the bottle until he can feel Louis’ hand, latches onto Louis’ wrist, fingers wrapping around it easily. He’s gripping too hard, but he can’t stop. Louis is still and Niall can feel his pulse. Or maybe it’s his own, still pounding, a drum beat thrumming in his fingertips. It has to be his own heartbeat. Why would Louis’ pulse be so fast?

“‘s’all right, Nialler. You’re all right.” Louis’ voice is soft and gentle around the edges. Niall doesn’t know how Louis manages it, but there’s something in the way Louis speaks that makes Niall feel wrapped up in him. Like he’s being hugged tight even though the only place they’re touching are their hands.

Niall almost believes him. It feels like he’ll never be all right again, but Louis says it so surely and so gently that he can almost believe him. Almost.

He can’t help but worry that the flashes will keep getting worse and worse. What if there’s a day where Niall wakes up and he doesn’t know if what he’s seeing is real or a flash of a future that might happen, but might not?

He feels Louis’ fingers brush over his right hand, so light that he almost doesn’t notice the touch at all. He waits. Niall doesn’t move. After one yawning moment that feels stretched out, Louis closes his hand around Niall’s.

He feels his pulse slow in long, drawn out minutes. His chest aches, but it feels loose. The panic isn’t clinging to him anymore. It’s slid away and left behind an ache. He hurts all over, but he can finally breathe again. The change must be obvious because the cushion next to him sinks and Liam’s knee presses against his lightly.

Niall opens his eyes.

Louis raises his eyebrows, eyes fixed on Niall. He nods, not knowing what to say. He’s better now. He doesn’t know how to tell them. He doesn’t know how to say it, but he’s okay for now.

“Drink some water, yeah?” Louis says, sliding his wrist out of Niall’s grip and forcing him to take the bottle. He keeps his left hand over Niall’s right, twisting the cap off with his free hand.

Niall drinks and focuses on the way his head clears with every drink. Once half the bottle is gone, he focuses on his knees. “Sorry,” he manages.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Louis replies. “How d’you feel?”

“All right,” he says, knowing they won’t believe him. “Don’t know what happened.” It’s not as much of a lie as they will think it is.

“Doesn’t matter,” Louis says firmly. “You’re okay now, that’s what’s important.”

Niall looks up and his eyes land on Harry. He’s hovering behind Louis, hands hanging at his sides and shoulders tense. His face is creased by a frown and his eyes are watery. His throat moves as he swallows when Niall looks at him.

“Did I - “

“Wasn’t you. Promise.”

Harry nods, but Niall can tell it doesn’t help. Niall can feel the guilt rolling off him, can read it in every line of his shoulder and jaw, every muscle screaming _it’s my fault it was me it was because of me._ He knows, somehow, that it’s making Harry’s stomach turn. Can feel his own stomach turn. Niall wants to make things better. Wants to make Harry understand that it didn’t have anything to do with him. His head feels too heavy and his tongue feels thick.

“Keep drinking,” Louis says firmly, but he’s looking at Harry. Harry looks away and Niall drinks, his stomach settling. Louis turns back to him. “You should have a nap.”

Niall takes another drink and shakes his head. “Have to get ready for the show.”

The corner of Louis’ mouth twitches up. “We can handle it. We’ll get Dan or Sandy to check your guitars over. You need some rest.”

Niall wants to protest, but he knows Louis is right. He’s exhausted and he’ll never make it through a show like this. But he doesn’t want to sleep. He doesn’t want to risk waking too early and being alone, not knowing where he is or if what he’s seeing is real or not. He’s terrified of them finding out about his flashes. He’s never cared to tell anyone about them before, but he’s suddenly overwhelmed with fear of them finding out because he’s suddenly got a broken arm or leg.

He’s terrified of not knowing what’s real and what’s not.

Louis’ eyes are fixed on him. Somehow, Niall feels like Louis knows. For a moment, it feels like Louis understands why he doesn’t want to sleep. There’s something in the way he’s looking at him that makes Niall feel too seen. Like everything he’s kept inside and not said are suddenly laid out for anyone to see.

Niall has always been the one to see through Louis’ bullshit. Being on the other side makes him want to squirm.

“Li, you’ve got some calls to make, right?” Louis looks at Liam and there’s something in the arch of Louis’ eyebrow that Liam can read. Niall wishes he couldn’t read it as well.

“Yeah,” Liam says immediately. He turns to look at Niall, eyes wide and open and hopeful. “We could have a cuddle if you like?”

The laugh is a quiet one, but it bursts out of Niall’s chest before he can help it. “Yeah. We can cuddle.”

Liam smiles and immediately wraps his arms around Niall’s middle, trapping his arms against his sides. Niall rolls his eyes, but lets Liam wrestle him into a more comfortable position. He’s leaning against Liam’s shoulder and he knows his shoulder is going to ache from staying in this position. His legs are dangling off the sofa and will probably be stiff for the show.

But if Niall wakes up, he’s not going to have any question of where he is or who is with him.

Louis is still crouched on the floor. It’s harder to look him in the eye now, but Louis doesn’t let his gaze waver. Niall doesn’t know what he’s waiting for, but he doesn’t move. Not until Liam speaks up.

“Tommo, can you pass me my phone before you go?”

Louis nods and stands. He keeps his eyes fixed on Niall for a few more seconds, before turning to Liam. “Sure thing, Payno.”

“Niall,” Harry says, and his voice sounds too small, “are you sure - “

“‘M’fine,” Niall interrupts. “Swear. Make sure Dan and Sandy don’t fuck up me guitars, yeah?”

Harry doesn’t look reassured. He nods and heads for the door, but Niall doesn’t want Harry to be worried over him. It wasn’t Harry’s fault. It’s not Harry’s fault that Niall was having a conversation with him one minute and feeling like he was going to pass out the next. But Harry doesn’t know about the flashes. He doesn’t know that anything changed except that Niall was okay and then he wasn’t.

He reaches out as Harry passes, grabbing at his hand and squeezing. Harry freezes and looks down at Niall, pouting the way he always does when he’s well and truly upset. Harry looks down at him and for a moment, Niall is sure that he can feel something like fear lodging itself in his throat.

It’s not the fear that has been growing every day, the fear that the flashes are something he needs to worry about. That they are something he can’t ignore anymore. It’s not the fear of someone finding out about them or what might happen to him because of them.

It’s like he’s afraid he’s done something wrong. Like he’s afraid he’s broken something he isn’t sure he can fix or replace.

Niall doesn’t know where it’s coming from.

Harry nods and slips his hand away, reaching for the door. Niall settles back against Liam, frowning as the strange rush of fear fades away as quickly as it came. The room is quiet. Liam is holding his cell phone loosely, probably waiting for Niall to fall asleep before he calls anyone.

But Niall can’t stop thinking. He can’t stop thinking about the flashes and how much worse they’ve gotten. If they’ve started to change, he’s not sure what he’s going to do. How can he tell anyone about it now? After all this time?

It had made sense to keep quiet. The flashes were never a big deal. They hardly ever happened. There was nothing _to_ tell.

Niall’s worried he doesn’t have a choice anymore. It feels like it’s getting too big for him to handle alone.

“You’re supposed to be napping,” Liam says after a minute.

Niall shrugs as best as he can, pressed against Liam’s side. “Too much to think about,” he replies.

“Like what?”

Niall can feel his face morph into something comic and incredulous, but he can’t turn to look at Liam. “More like what _not_.”

“No, like... what’s bothering you right now? What are you thinking about that’s keeping you up?”

Niall bites his lip. “Is there anything you’ve never told us? Anything you kept to yourself because you didn’t think it mattered?”

“Don’t know, mate,” Liam says and Niall can hear the frown in his voice. “I’m not very good at keeping things to myself with you boys.” He pauses and Niall waits, knowing exactly what Liam’s going to say. “You know you can tell us anything, though. No matter what it is.”

Niall sighs. “Yeah, I know. I just... it never mattered to me before. But it feels like it... it might. Now.”

Liam squeezes him, arms tugging him even closer. His shoulder has to be digging into Liam’s ribcage and Liam’s chin bumps the top of his head, but it feels like something in him has unwound. If he needs to tell the boys about his flashes, he can. They’ll take care of him the same way they took care of him when he was panicking.

Niall sighs and closes his eyes, feeling like he can finally relax. He still wants telling them to be his choice. Something that he decides he wants them to know. He doesn’t want to tell them just because he’s afraid.

But he can tell them. If he needs to.

 

* * *

 

The show goes better than Niall expected. He doesn’t fuck anything up, and he has fun goofing off with Liam, and the crowd is unbelievable. Even with a stiff back and aching chest, he feels loose and happy in a way that he doesn’t seem to feel if he isn’t onstage.

Once they’re back at the hotel and he’s alone in his room, though, the anxiety started to creep back in. The question of what to do about the flashes. Whether to speak up and tell the boys or not.

Niall doesn’t know how he would even start that conversation, isn’t sure how he would explain the flashes. But he doesn’t know if he can keep himself from _not_ telling them much longer. It’s getting to be too much. He knows that he can’t handle it alone anymore.

But they already have so much to deal with on their own.

He doesn’t know how he can put more on them. He so desperately wants to keep them from falling apart. They’re already starting to break. He’s at his wit’s end at how to talk to them anymore. Everything feels distant and stilted even when they’re standing right next to each other. The last thing they need is more worry on top of all that.

He doesn’t know how he’s meant to choose. He can’t figure out why they can’t seem to talk to each other the same way anymore, not when he has to deal with the flashes and headaches every hour of the day. Telling them about the flashes might help him feel less like he’s going to lose track of what’s real or not, but he feels like it would only make the distance between them all worse.

They might be mad he didn’t say anything about the flashes before. Upset that he kept it to himself for all these years.

He sighs and shoves his face into the hotel pillow. It’s cool against his cheek, but doesn’t help him feel any closer to sleep. He groans and picks the pillow up, shoving it over his face. If he smothers himself he won’t have to deal with the flashes at all.

“All right there, Nialler?”

Niall shoots up, pillow falling into his lap. Louis is closing the door behind him, flicking the deadlock and kicking off his shoes at the same time. He’s wearing soft-looking shorts and a hoodie, his hair damp at the ends.

“What’re you doin’ here, Tommo? Nearly gave me a heart attack.”

He drops a keycard onto the dresser before flopping onto the bed next to Niall. “Should lock your door at night, lad. Never know who might try and break in.”

Niall looks down at him, raising his eyebrow. “But if I locked the door you wouldn’t be able to break in and disturb my sleep whenever you want.”

Louis huffs, twisting into a more comfortable position. “You weren’t sleeping.”

Niall rolls his eyes and puts his pillow back where it belongs. He doesn’t lie down all the way, but props himself up on his elbow. “Why’re you here, Lou?”

“Wanted to check up on you,” Louis replies easily. “Make sure you were all right.”

Niall looks away, stretching his neck nervously. “I’m fine. Nothing to worry about.”

Louis doesn’t reply and the silence feels heavy to Niall. The weight of the flashes, of how terrified he is of them, feel like they’re crushing him. He still doesn’t know if he wants to put words to what is happening to him. He wants everything to go back to how it was before, when he didn’t have to worry about the flashes. He wishes he could go back to the days when he was just worried about what would happen if he got a flash in the middle of an interview.

Niall wishes he could go back to when he was just worried about small things. Like if Zayn was getting sick again and how to keep from getting sick himself or stop Harry from getting sick. Like how to make it through a whole day of promo without Louis going off the rails.

“Can’t stop us from worrying about you, Nialler,” Louis finally says. “Might as well stop trying.”

Niall can feel his jaw locking up on him and he has to fight to talk. They don’t need to worry about him. “We’ve got enough to deal with - “

Louis shoves himself up off the bed, bracing his arm against the sheets. Niall notices absently that they’re mirroring each other. He doesn’t want to move, can’t look away even though he wants to.

“Shut up. None of it is more important than you.”

Niall meets Louis’ eye and he feels hot under the fierceness of his gaze. “Yeah,” Niall mumbles, not sure what else to say. Not in the face of Louis’ aggressive and protective affirmation.

“Something’s been bothering you,” Louis says and his voice is firm, but soft around the edges. Gentler, like he can coax it out of Niall if he softens the blow enough. “Not just band stuff.”

“Yeah,” Niall says quietly.

Maybe he _can_ tell them without making things worse. They don’t have to know how bad it is. He can stop them from worrying _too_ much. He doesn’t have to tell them how bad the flashes are, can just tell them they’re worse than they used to be. He doesn’t have to worry them. He can tell them and not scare them.

He just has to find a way to explain seeing the future and find a way to make them believe he isn’t as terrified of what’s been happening with it as he really is. Once they know, it’ll be easier. Even if they don’t know how bad it’s been. It will be better just because they know and he doesn’t have to hide the flashes from them.

“Just... don’t know how to talk about it, you know?”

Louis is quiet and his mouth is thin. Niall can see him trying to figure out what to say.

People always assume that Louis says whatever pops into his head, that he doesn’t think before he does anything. It makes Niall want to burst sometimes, at how wrong they are. Louis has always been loud and brash, but when it’s important he gets quiet. When he is really invested in something, he _thinks_ and his quiet is loud in its own way.

“Something... really fucking weird is happening,” Louis finally says. “I thought I was imagining it at first, but…”

Niall frowns, but doesn’t say anything. He can feel a quiet kind of gravity settling in his bones. He doesn’t know what Louis is going to say, but he knows it’s important. He can feel it in the way the muscles in his neck look stiff and the way his fingers twitch against the duvet.

“Earlier,” Louis says firmly, voice stronger than before, “when I held your hand. It was like... I could feel it. The way you were panicking. I could feel it like I was the one having an attack. My chest felt tight and my head felt heavy, but it wasn’t _me._ That was you. But I was feeling it too.”

Niall’s head starts to swim. His knee starts to go numb and he knows he needs to shift his weight so he doesn’t wake up with it stiff and sore in the morning. But Louis’ voice is holding him still. There have been times when Louis has managed to hold an entire room at attention with just his voice, but it’s never felt like this before. Niall’s limbs feel too prickly and too nervous, but he’s held captive in Louis’ words.

“And then during the show, it was like... it wasn’t like when the crowd’s excited, so you feel excited too. It was like I was down there with them even though I was still up on stage. I knew exactly what they were feeling because I could feel it. I could feel it, but it wasn’t _me._ ”

“Louis - “

“I know, all right? I know it sounds mad. But it’s true.”

Niall swallows, his throat suddenly dry and scratchy. Louis isn’t having him on. He can hear it in the way his voice shakes, can see it in the way Louis’ lower lip sticks out just a little bit further and his cheeks look just a little bit fuller.

Niall knows that Louis is biting his tongue, keeping himself from rambling. He wishes Louis would keep going. Keep talking so he has something to focus on.

He doesn’t know how to handle this.

When he first started getting the flashes, he had wondered if there were other people. If maybe the world was like an X-Men movie and there were other people just like him and he just never knew it. He had never really thought about why he got the flashes, if there even _was_ a reason. But for years, Niall would look at people and wonder if they had some weird, almost useless trick like he did.

He had given up on that years ago.

“How do you know it’s not you?” Niall asks quietly, his voice hoarse. “How do you know it’s not just stress doing funny things to your head?”

Louis shrugs and looks down. “I can’t explain it. It’s like... when you have a dream and you don’t _know_ it’s a dream, but you know something isn’t right. It’s like that. A bit. I know it’s not _mine.”_

“Lou,” Niall starts. He doesn’t know how to finish. His voice sounds thin and he knows it.

“S’all right if you don’t believe me,” Louis says softly. “I know how mad it sounds.”

“I believe you,” Niall says immediately, more forcefully than he means to. “It’s not that.”

And it isn’t. He _does_ believe Louis.

But it feels like his whole world has been flipped inside out after it’s already been turned upside down.

Louis flops back down onto the bed, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. “What? You’ve got a secret revelation bigger than me being some kind of emotional sponge?”

Niall snorts, the laugh clawing out of his chest before he can help it. He takes a minute to breathe, but can’t wipe the smile off his face. His shoulders don’t feel as tight anymore and the ache in his head is almost unmentionable. He knows his smile is manic, one born of nervous anxiety and relief that doesn’t quite feel real yet. He feels like a spool of thread that someone dropped. He’s unravelling across the floor, everything unwinding all at once.

“Well, I mean, there’s always the bit where I can see the future.”

Louis frowns and shoves at Niall’s shoulder before he flops over. “Piss off, mate.”

Niall adjust his leg, letting the feeling come back to his knee with pins and needles. He laughs and it’s all nervous energy bubbling up in his chest. He knows he has to calm down, has to make Louis understand that it isn’t a joke. The nervous relief feels too big and he can’t push it down. Not entirely. He can’t wrap the string back up again, all he can do is gather it up and try to hold it together.

He digs his fingers into the duvet, closer to Louis’ hip than his own. There’s some kind of embroidered design and he picks at it idly. He looks at Louis and takes a deep breath.

“I’m serious, Lou. I can see the future. Or like, pieces. Sometimes.”

Louis looks at him and Niall forces himself to hold his gaze. He’s sure Louis would believe him even if he looked away, but he doesn’t want to take the easy way out. He needs Louis to understand this.

“You’re not just having me on?” Louis asks suspiciously.

Niall shakes his head. Louis might not know how much worse the flashes have been lately, but he _knows_ now _._ Niall feels light and nervous all at once

“No. Just... never knew how to bring it up.”

Louis frowns and Niall isn’t sure why. “So you can really see the future? Really? Since when?”

“Since always,” Niall replies. “Think I was fourteen? It’s like, flashes. And they don’t always happen. It feels a bit like what you said. Like a dream.”

The corner of Louis’ mouth is starting to twitch upwards. He’s trying not to grin, but he is still looking at Niall like he’s pushed him off the bed or tripped him while he was walking by.

“Seeing the future feels like a dream? Sounds like you should ask for a refund, mate.”

Niall shakes his head. “Not a dream, exactly. More like... like deja vu, I guess.”

“And you just... never mentioned it before now?”

Niall turns so that he’s lying on his back. He closes his eyes, finally comfortable enough that he feels like he can relax. “Never used to be a problem. They’re just like, flashes. Nothing big. A couple seconds usually. You never mentioned anything either.”

“It’s been like a week, mate. Bit different than actual years,” Louis replies. He pauses and looks at Niall carefully. “Are they a problem now?”

Niall bites his lip. Louis shuffles closer and he can feel the warmth of Louis’ shoulder bump against his. He knows he should be more careful. Shouldn’t let on just how much of a problem the flashes are becoming. But Niall is sick of his head spinning all the time. He is tired of feeling ill all the time and being so afraid his stomach is in knots.

Maybe he shouldn’t say anything. Maybe he should keep it to himself, not put any other worries onto the boys. But lying next to Louis, shoulders pressed together and chest still full of nervous laughter that feels light like butterflies, he doesn’t want to keep it secret anymore. He wants them to know.

He swallows and presses closer, elbow knocking against Louis’. “Might be.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Louis says softly.

They both go quiet and Niall knows that he could go to sleep now. That it would be okay. Louis wouldn’t push Niall yet. He wouldn’t ask why they might be a problem or why they’ve been worrying him so much.

But Niall wants to tell him. He doesn’t want to avoid it anymore and he isn’t sure he’ll be able to do it if he waits anymore. He’ll convince himself why he shouldn’t say anything and talk himself out of it.

“They’ve gotten worse,” Niall says.

The words feel heavy on his tongue. He turns over and opens his eyes so he can look at Louis. If he’s doing this, he’s doing it. He won’t have this conversation with the ceiling.

“I only used to get them every now and then. Now I’m lucky if I go a day without them. I think my headaches have something to do with it. Earlier - with Harry? - I had a flash and in it I was ill. When it was over, I felt the same way. That’s never happened before and I don’t know - ”

He can’t finish. He doesn’t know how to put to words the terror. He doesn’t know how to explain how deep the fear of the flashes has become. The way his head feels too light and too heavy all at once just from the memory of the fear. He can’t explain that.

Louis touches his hand and his fingers still against the embroidery on the duvet. He looks Louis in the eye and he feels like someone has pulled a curtain back in a dark room, sunlight streaming through and blinding him.

He doesn’t _need_ to explain it. Louis knows.

“We’ll figure it out,” he repeats, voice firm and unyielding. Niall can’t help but believe him. “We’ll look out for each other, yeah? I’ll watch your back and you’ll watch mine.”

Niall laughs the way he always does. Because it’s a joke. It’s always been a joke. They’ve always meant it, _really_ meant it -  but it’s always been a joke too. Something they can laugh about even when they’re being serious. Something they don’t have to say is as serious as it is.

“You think you would feel what I’m feeling if I had a flash?” Niall asks suddenly, insatiably curious. He’s never figured out a way to explore the flashes. He’s always wondered how they worked, what happened to him in the present when he was in a flash of the future, but he’s never been sure how to figure it out. “Like, if I had a flash right now would you feel whatever I felt in the future?”

Louis grins and shakes his head. “Dunno. You’ve had years to get used to seeing the future. Bit of an unfair advantage if you ask me.”

“You’ll catch on quick. You always do.”

Niall grins even when Louis shoves a hand against his cheek to push his face into the pillow. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping, it’s past your bedtime.”

He reaches out and shoves a finger into Louis’ ribs, watching him gasp and flinch away and struggle not to laugh. “You staying or going back to your room?”

“Thought I’d stay, but not if you’re turning violent on me,” he grumbles, rubbing his side. “Jesus, Nialler.”

“You taught us all to fight dirty, Tommo. It’s your own fault.”

Louis scowls and kicks at his feet - Niall doesn’t mention that he can tell Louis isn’t _really_ trying to kick him - before flipping over so his back is to Niall. “Lies and slander. I taught you nothing, Horan.”

Niall could reply, could keep teasing and poking until they’re both breathless from laughter. But for the first time in ages, Niall doesn’t feel heavy or uncomfortable falling asleep. He doesn’t feel like his skin is crawling or like the blankets feel as soft as sandpaper. He feels comfortable and warm and even though the blankets are far from soft, Louis’ jumper is gentle against his skin.

He shuffles closer to Louis. He doesn’t get close enough to cuddle. Just enough to press his forehead against Louis’ shoulder.

“Thanks, Lou,” he says quietly.

Louis reaches back, patting at Niall’s hip clumsily. “Sweet dreams, Niall. Don’t go and have any prophetic ones. Need a good night’s sleep.”

Niall mumbles in reply, wanting to tell him that he’s never had many dreams and that he doesn’t think the flashes work that way. But he’s already falling asleep with his forehead pressed against the hood of Louis’ jacket.

 

* * *

 

Niall is dreading Dubai.

It will be their last show until June. The last time they have a real distraction from everything that needs doing. After Dubai, they’ll have two months where they have to figure out exactly what they’re going to do and figure out how they’re going to move forward.

They’ll be in Dubai and Zayn won’t be there.

It makes Niall feel off-balance, like he’s in constant danger of tipping over. Ever since they found out that they would be playing in Dubai, Zayn was excited about it. He talked about it all the time, how cool he thought it was that they got to play there.

Now Zayn’s gone. They’ll be in Dubai tomorrow and Zayn won’t be with them. Niall’s chest feels hollow and every breath rattles against his ribs. For the first time in days, he almost wishes he would get a flash. Maybe it would distract from how empty and echoing he feels inside.

He shakes his head and flips his phone over in his hand. He’s been getting flashes enough without wishing for them. This isn’t something that can be solved by the flashes anyway. It’s not like he’ll have a flash of a future where Zayn is with them.

He hasn’t really tried to contact Zayn since before Jakarta. Nothing he sent before that got a reply. After, he never knew what to say. He’s afraid anything he tries to say will be a lie or that it will get ignored with the rest.

But the Dubai show is looming over him, refusing to let him think of anything but Zayn. Every time he turns, he expects Zayn to be there at his elbow.

Niall doesn’t want to be angry at Zayn forever. He doesn’t want to spend the rest of his life resenting Zayn for leaving. He already feels guilty for being angry, for feeling betrayed that Zayn left them.

He unlocks his phone, typing out a message before he can stop himself. Before he can overthink it and decide not to write it at all.

_heading to dubai soon. really miss ya_

He doesn’t know what else to say. Presses send before he can delete it, decide it isn’t enough. He stares at the message, biting his thumbnail. The screen goes dark and he tosses it onto the bed beside him.

He feels like he’s done nothing but perform, travel, and sit in his hotel room for days. It’s hard to muster the energy to go out when his head feels like it might split open. But he’s starting to feel antsy. His fingers and toes feel twitchy and he can’t stay in his hotel room any longer.

Niall heads for Harry’s room. Harry’s been avoiding him anyway. He’s sure that he’s still blaming himself for Niall’s panic attack. Niall intends to sit Harry down and tell him that it’s not his fault. That he didn’t do anything wrong.

Things are strange enough between them all without Harry feeling guilty over something that isn’t his fault.

When he gets to Harry’s room, the door isn’t shut all the way. He frowns and pushes it open, ready to threaten Harry with calling security if he’s going to leave his door propped open like a lunatic.

He freezes, hand still on the door handle, when he hears Louis’ voice.

“If it’s bothering you that much, you need to tell him,” he says firmly and his voice sounds rough and harsher than normal. “Otherwise he’ll have no clue why you’re apologising.”

“It’s not that easy,” Harry replies and he sounds upset.

Niall knows he should leave now. He should leave or open the door and let them know he’s there. But Harry and Louis never talk like this anymore. Niall can’t help but wonder why they are now, iif it’s something to worry about or not.

“It’s not as hard as you’re making it, either.”

“You don’t get it,” Harry replies angrily. “Do you know how hard it was to tell _you?”_

“And that was years ago. If you think Niall - or Liam, for that matter - are going to react badly, you’re wrong.”

It’s quiet and Niall knows he needs to move. Anyone could come down the hall.

It’s not like they never talk about each other. If he didn’t go hide out with Liam to complain about something Louis or Harry did back in the beginning or didn’t listen to Harry whine about something Zayn said, he isn’t sure they would have made it to this point. They’ve always been there for each other, but they have never had illusions that they won’t always get along.

The idea of Harry hiding something from them for years, though, is almost unfathomable. He’s better at keeping things to himself now, but for half the time Niall has known him he’s been an open book.

“They’ll be angry,” Harry says so quietly that Niall almost doesn’t hear it, “that I kept it from them. That it took me so long to tell them. They’ll think I didn’t trust them.”

Niall feels his pulse pounding against his neck. It’s like Harry has put to words why he never told the boys about his flashes. At first it was because he barely knew them. But then he was so worried they would be upset he didn’t tell them sooner, that they wouldn’t understand how much of a small thing the flashes were to him. He didn’t want them to think he didn’t trust them.

“They’ll understand,” Louis says softly. Niall thinks it is the gentlest he has sounded with Harry in years. “All you have to do is explain it and they’ll understand.”

“I can’t. I just… I can’t do it. Not now.”

“You can. You just won’t.”

“It’s my choice,” Harry says firmly. Niall recognises the tone. Whatever they’re talking about, Louis doesn’t have a chance of changing Harry’s mind.

“Then you’ll have to fucking let it go,” Louis snaps. “You can’t apologise for something Niall doesn’t know you did.”

Niall steps back. He feels hot all over and itchy, like he’s wearing ill-fitting clothes except that it’s his skin that feels like it doesn’t fit properly. What could Harry have done that he feels like he needs to apologise for? What could he have done that warrants an apology, but Niall wouldn’t have noticed? It can’t still have to do with his panic attack, could it?

He swallows and heads for the elevators. Chances are Liam will be in the gym. He’s been there a lot lately. He always works out when he needs a proper distraction. He closes his eyes and leans against the elevator wall. His skin is still crawling and he knows if he opens his eyes he won’t be able to focus on anything but how small the elevator is. He keeps his eyes shut.

When he hears the doors open, he pushes off of the wall and makes his way to the gym. He has to use his keycard to open the door and Liam is sitting on a bench pushed against the wall, rubbing his face with a towel.

“Hey, Li,” Niall says, sitting next to him. “Good workout?”

Liam drops the towel into his lap and smiles, but it looks strained around the edges. Niall’s worried about him. He’s worried that he isn’t sleeping or taking care of himself as much as he should. Liam’s always been better at taking care of them than himself. He never puts himself first.

“Not bad,” he replies. “You all right?”

Niall shrugs. He isn’t sure if he’s all right or not. Sitting with his shoulder knocking into Liam’s makes the crawling in his skin settle, but he still feels odd from what he overheard.

“Have you noticed Harry and Louis acting… weird?”

“Weird how?”

Niall shrugs again and stares at his knees. “Harry’s been avoiding me. Went to his room to find out why and the door wasn’t shut. He and Lou were talking.”

“What about? Were they fighting?” Liam sounds worried.

Niall shakes his head immediately. “No. Don’t know what they were on about, though.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” he says. Niall wonders if Liam is trying to sound reassuring. He’s usually much better at it.

He bites his lip and doesn’t say anything. He wonders if this is just how they all are now - too afraid and too unsure to really be okay with each other again. He knows that no matter what they do, it won’t be the same without Zayn. They can’t go back to what they had if there are only four of them.

Niall just wants it to be easy again. He doesn’t want to have to constantly worry about how they fit together. He doesn’t want to be so afraid of losing them.

“I texted Zayn,” he says softly.

Liam doesn’t say anything. Niall wishes he knew the right way to talk about Zayn. It never comes out right. It always feels too angry or too empty. It’s easier to say nothing at all.

“What did you say?” Liam’s voice sounds thick and small. Niall’s glad they’re alone in the gym.

“That we were going to Dubai soon. And I missed him.” Niall picks at a loose thread in his jeans. He tugs at it, but it barely moves. “I don’t want to hate him. I just don’t know how to not be angry at him.”

“We can fix it,” Liam says firmly. Niall turns to look at him and he’s got a stubborn glint in his eye. “It’s _Zayn._ We can fix things.”

“Don’t know if it’ll be that easy.”

No matter what Liam thinks, Niall knows it won’t be as simple as that. If it were, they would have been able to fix it when Zayn was still here. He wouldn’t have left the way he did.

But Liam’s never really borne the brunt of Zayn’s stubborn streak. Zayn always had too much of a soft spot when it came to Liam. Liam was the one that could always talk Zayn into something, even if Zayn didn’t want to do it. Niall knows that Zayn is too stubborn for his own good. If he digs his feet in, he won’t see reason. Sometimes they could knock sense back into him, but Niall gets the feeling that it might be a while before Zayn lets them try to fix anything.

“You think we should be worried about Harry and Louis?” Niall asks, changing the subject. “H wasn’t exactly happy with him about the twitter thing.”

“I’ll see if I can get Lou to tell me anything. Maybe he knows why Harry’s avoiding you too.”

Niall bites his lip. He knows that Louis knows. But Louis won’t say a word. No one is better at keeping a secret than Louis. Even if he thought Harry shouldn’t keep whatever they were talking about secret, he won’t breathe a word of it to anyone.

“Maybe,” Niall replies quietly.

“Are you sure you’re all right, Niall? You’ve not been yourself.”

Niall glances over at Liam. He looks earnest and worried and so very tired. He wants to say that none of them have been themselves.

He doesn’t. It would just worry Liam more.

“Yeah, Payno. I’m all right. Ready for break and some rest.”

He never likes lying to the boys. Even when he knows it’s something small or necessary, it always makes him feel too warm. The last thing Liam needs is to worry about Niall and he still isn’t sure if he should tell Harry or Liam about the flashes.

It feels better, now that Louis knows. But he knows that Louis’ been keeping more of an eye on him than usual too. It will be even worse if he tells Liam.

He can’t decide what the right choice is - is it better to keep lying to them when he knows that them knowing would benefit him? Or should he stay quiet to keep from worrying them even more?

“I’ve got to shower. You sure you’re all right?”

“Right as rain. Go. You stink.”

Liam laughs and tosses his towel at Niall’s head. He scowls and throws it back at him. Liam is laughing and suddenly, Niall’s vision blurs.

He blinks and he’s onstage. Liam is holding an award and he’s laughing. They’re all laughing. Louis is raucous and overpowering in his ear, Harry turning to Liam and gesturing sharply with a wild grin spread across his face. Niall can’t breathe from laughing.

He blinks and he’s in the gym again.

Liam is looking at him with wide eyes. He looks afraid and for one breathless moment, Niall is sure that something happened during his flash. Something that revealed him somehow. Something that scared Liam.

His heart is pounding against his chest and it feels like it’s trying to get out, desperately trying to break through his ribs and muscle and skin.

“All right, Liam?” he asks, hoping that his panic isn’t obvious in his voice.

Liam blinks and the look on his face makes Niall want to rush forward and hug him. He looks scared and shocked. Niall wants to reassure him, tell him everything is okay. But he’s afraid. He doesn’t know what happened when he was seeing the flash. Liam might be afraid of something he did or something he should have reacted to and didn’t.

Even with all the interviews and performances, even with half his life being recorded for all the world to see, Niall still has no idea what he looks like during a flash. He’s had them in interviews, but has always been too disoriented to remember exactly when.

“Fine,” Liam finally says and his voice is tight and strained, like he’s forcing it out of his throat. “My head just hurts all of a sudden.”

“Sorry, mate,” Niall says, aware of how afraid and panicked they both sound. “I’m going to go pack.”

Liam nods and Niall stands. They look at each other for one long, drawn out moment. Niall is so afraid, but Liam looks so terrified. He steps forward and wraps his arms around Liam, squeezing him tight and quick despite the sweat. He presses a kiss to his cheek before heading back towards the elevators.

He stares at the closed elevator doors for a moment. He doesn’t know if he wants to get inside, doesn’t know if he can handle the close walls and closed doors. But his room is ten floors up. He can’t walk that, not without fucking up his knee.

He takes a deep breath and presses the call button. The doors open and Niall steps inside. He keeps his eyes closed, same as before, only moving when he hears the doors open.

He makes his way back to his room, passing Harry’s room. The door is closed properly now and he freezes in front of it. He doesn’t want to go back to his room. He doesn’t want to be alone, really. He was so desperate earlier to know _why_ Harry was avoiding him. Desperate to reassure him about how it wasn’t necessary.

Niall doesn’t care about that right now. He knocks sharply on Harry’s door. It opens almost immediately and Harry looks at him warily. “Niall,” he says quietly.

“I know you’ve been avoiding me,” Niall says. “I don’t know why, but I don’t care. Stop it.”

Harry blinks and runs a hand through his hair. “Niall - “

“Shut up. I need a hug.”

For a moment, Harry doesn’t move. Then he wraps his arms around Niall’s waist, bending over to hook his chin over Niall’s shoulder. Niall sighs, presses his face against Harry’s shoulder. Harry shuffles them backwards so the door shuts behind them and Niall laughs when they almost tip over.

They stand just like that for a while. Niall isn’t sure how long. Finally, Harry steps back. His arms swing awkwardly at his sides for a moment, like he isn’t sure what to do with them if they aren’t wrapped around Niall.

“Better?”

Niall nods. He feels less afraid now. He can’t do anything about whatever happened with Liam. Whatever happened is done now.

“Thanks, Harry.”

“Sorry,” he replies, “for… you know. Avoiding you.”

“You going to do it again?”

Harry shakes his head, stepping forward to wrap his arms around Niall’s shoulders this time. “Nah. Would miss out on all these fantastic hugs, wouldn’t I?”

Niall laughs and shoves him away. He still wants to know what Harry feels like he needs to apologise for, still wants to know why it is so important to apologise and how Niall didn’t notice whatever it was. He wants to know if he’s still feeling guilty about his panic attack. But that can wait. There’s time.

 

* * *

 

Niall is backstage somewhere. He has no idea where. All the stadiums look the same on the inside. Endless, drably-coloured hallways winding around so he is never sure which way is out. Usually there are signs he can follow, bright blue against the walls that security tapes up so no one got lost. He doesn’t see any signs.

He feels sick. The limb-heavy, head-pounding, can’t see straight kind of sick. Every breath makes his chest feel like it’s being shredded. He just wants to lie down. Sleep for a few minutes or hours or days.

“You all right, Niall?”

Niall looks up and Liam is there. He’s frowning and Niall tries to reply, but everything blurs.

He’s outside. It’s hot and his shoulder is sore. His hands feel heavy and clumsy. He feels too seen. He’s used to people looking at him all the time, but this is different. He feels nervous and jumpy, the same way he used to get before going onstage. He has to resist the urge to bite at his nails.

He blinks and something slips under his foot and everything blurs.

There’s music, distorted and pounding and far away. The sun is beating down on him, but it makes him feel light and happy. He’s holding a sweating cup of beer and he feels comfortable, joy bubbling up bright and warm inside his chest.

He looks up and through the crowd, he can see a familiar silhouette. The necklace around his neck suddenly feels too heavy, like it will pull him straight to the ground. He tries to see through the crowd, but the shape disappeared.

He doesn’t know if he should hope it was really Zayn or not. He blinks and the sunlight turns everything hazy and then it all blurs.

Niall is in a hotel room, shoved in the corner of a sofa. Louis is pressed against his side, typing on his phone intently. Niall’s phone is in his hand, but he isn’t looking at that. He watches as Louis bites his lip while he types out replies, sees the way his mouth quirks upwards when he’s thought of something particularly cheeky.

“You could help, you know,” Louis tells him, not looking up from his phone.

Niall shrugs, liking the way it jostles Louis’ shoulder. “You’re doing fine. Means more from you, anyway.”

Louis looks up and frowns. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He looks up to reply and his head spins again, everything blurring into a kaleidoscope of spots and stars.

Niall wakes up and it feels like he’s falling. He twists, trying to throw the blankets off of him. They’re too heavy and too hot and too close. He feels out of breath and his heart is racing.

He sits up and closes his eyes, tries to focus on breathing. He can’t remember the last time he had a dream. Before he got the flashes, maybe. He always figured there wasn’t enough room in his head for dreams - that the flashes just took up too much space.

He wants to believe that they were just dreams. Just strange, surreal dreams. He knows better. They were flashes. He was sleeping, but they were flashes.

He opens his eyes and grips the edge of the bed tightly. He forgot to pull the curtains closed before falling asleep. The sky is still dark, but his room feels like it’s lit up. Dubai stretches out behind the glass, glittering and colourful and bright. Buildings lit up like rainbows and fountains far below splashing light in careful arcs.

He thinks about back home in Mullingar, waking up in the middle of the night to the light of the moon filtering through the blinds. He thinks about lying awake on the tour bus, streetlights flashing by in the sliver of a window. He thinks about racing out of the fluorescent light of arenas into dim parking lots, their laughter echoing off of the bus windows.

He remembers performing at Croke, the way it felt like he had lightning under his skin. Even in the pouring rain, he was so happy it was like his joy was a presence all it’s own.

Standing on the stage and looking out at the crowd, knowing exactly what it looked like to be sitting in one of those seats. To be standing on the other side of it made him feel bigger than anything else possibly could. Knowing that the spotlight shining on him was just that much brighter and that much bigger than any other night, that everyone he cared about in the world was in one place and all of them, even the boys he was sharing the stage with, were watching him do what he’s best at - remembering it is like remembering a scene in a movie and a dream all at once.

He remembers sitting with Zayn after the last show, ears still ringing from the screams. Still in awe of the past three days. His shoulders were still warm and relaxed from constantly having Louis’ arm across them and from having Liam wrapped around him, chest still warm from the way Harry talked about him.

They were sitting at the back of the stadium, waiting for everyone to get their shit together so they could go out and celebrate. Zayn was pressed close to his side, their bare arms sweaty and sticky and pressed together. For a few minutes, it was just the two of them looking up at what stars weren’t erased by the stadium lights.

They knew they would be playing Dubai then. Sitting behind Croke Park, his fingers still jittery with excitement, all he could think about was how happy he was going to be for Zayn to play in Dubai. It wasn’t the same, not really. But Zayn was just as excited for it. It meant something just as big and unexplainable to him. Maybe there wasn’t quite as much history there, but Niall knew it meant the same to Zayn.

The room suddenly feels too big, too empty and cold for just one person. Dubai is stretching out in front of him and the space beside him on the bed feels too big and too heavy. There’s no one there and it feels like it’s pressing against him and weighing him down. It’s not loneliness, but it’s something close. It’s darker and more substantial. It isn’t like missing his family on tour or missing the boys when they have a break.

Niall knows if he turns, Zayn won’t be there. He doesn’t expect Zayn to be there, but he _should_ be. He should be next to Niall, looking out at Dubai and smiling and bright and _happy_ and with so much awe that he can’t hide any of it. He should be here next to Niall. They should be sharing this moment.

Zayn isn’t here. Zayn is gone. He’s not letting Niall into anything anymore.

For a long moment that feels stretched thin, Niall’s afraid he’s having another panic attack. His chest feels too tight and his head feels too light, but when he takes a breath it doesn’t feel like someone has a hand around his throat.

He let’s out the breath and it sounds ragged and choked. It’s not a panic attack. He’s crying. Properly crying. Shoulders heaving and can’t keep the noise in crying.

He doesn’t know what to do without Zayn fitting into the space next to him. Doesn’t know where to look when he’s onstage or who to turn to in interviews. Doesn’t know who to turn to when he just wants to pull someone close, just gets that itch under his skin to pull someone into his space and not let them go.

Niall’s afraid the space next to him will never stop feeling empty.

He pulls his good leg up onto the bed, wrapping his arms around it and pressing his forehead against his knee. He doesn’t know what to do about the flashes and doesn’t know what to do about Liam or Harry or Louis. He doesn’t know what to do about any of it.

All he wants to do is talk to Zayn. Tell him about the flashes, tell him about how scared he is, tell him about everything that’s going on with the boys. But Zayn still hasn’t replied to his text. Niall wants to say _fuck it_ and just call him, force him to answer or to outright reject the call. Not give him the chance to just sit by and not reply to a text.

He could do it. It would still be late back home, but not late enough that Zayn wouldn’t still be up. He _could_ do it.

But he won’t.

 

* * *

 

Niall feels jittery and stretched thin. He wanted to pull Louis aside before the show, try and talk to him about what happened with his flashes the night before. He knows he wouldn’t be able to keep how much it scared him from Louis anyway and he needs to tell someone. He needs someone to _know._

He’s terrified in a way that makes him want to freeze up and hide in a corner. The flashes are changing faster than he can adapt and he’s terrified of what might happen next. For years, they never changed.

In a week, everything has changed. Everything he knew about his flashes is being rewritten and rewired.

Niall needs someone to know how much the change is affecting him, how it makes him want to run and hide and lock the door and never come out. But he needs someone who really understands his flashes. Just in case.

Louis is the only one he trusts to know that he isn’t asking for help. He wants to know why his flashes are changing and what it means for him, but that’s not something someone else can figure out for him. He’s always had to figure out the flashes on his own. Louis would understand that he just needs someone to listen and to know what’s happening.

He might not even need to say it out loud for Louis to understand.

He hasn’t had the chance yet. As soon as they got to the stadium, Liam dragged Louis away with a serious look on his face. Niall still hasn’t seen a trace of them and it’s nearly showtime. He isn’t sure how he’ll manage to get through a show.

“All right, Niall?”

He turns and Harry is frowning at him, eyes sharp and concerned.

“Just tired, is all. Ready for break.”

Niall doesn’t know why he’s lying to Harry. They both know that he won’t get much rest over break. Niall already knows that he’ll be back in the UK this time tomorrow and then flying off to the states before the end of the week.

“You’ve been tired a lot lately.”

Harry shuffles his feet, but he’s looking at Niall intently. For a brief moment, Niall feels suddenly and intensely worried. He’s looking at Harry and the worry is so sudden he freezes up.

It’s gone as soon as it came and Niall can’t help but frown. It felt almost like a flash. Feeling something and not knowing the context or why he’s feeling that way. Except he didn’t see anything.

“If you want to say something, just say it, H. What are you trying to get at?”

Harry’s chin juts out the tiniest bit, making his jaw look soft and squishy. “If something’s wrong, you should tell us. You’ve not been yourself.”

Niall folds his arms across his chest and twists his neck. He should have been expecting this conversation. But he isn’t the only one that’s been keeping quiet.

“Something’s been bothering you too. Should take your own advice before you start giving it out, shouldn’t you?” Niall raises his eyebrow and Harry bites back a laugh. It still sounds loud next to the hushed sincerity of his concern.

“That’s not the _point,”_ Harry whines. Niall knows he’s annoyed by the turn of the conversation as much as he’s amused by it. “We’re talking about _you_ right now.”

“Just got a lot going on in my head right now, you know?” Niall looks away, not sure if Harry is still looking for a serious answer. But Louis is nowhere to be found and he can’t imagine going onstage feeling like this. “Feels like it’s stuffed full.”

He looks up and Harry has that manic glint in his eye. The one he always gets right before he does something cheeky or thinks he’s being hilarious. It’s the look he gets right before he does something intensely stupid, usually.

“You know what could help that?” He can’t keep the grin off his face and he sounds like one of the voice overs in a cheesy infomercial. Niall raises an eyebrow and tries to pretend he isn’t amused that Harry is so delighted with himself. “Talking it out! No better solution to stuffy heads. Except for Nyquil, that is.”

Niall rolls his eyes and tries not to laugh. Harry isn’t being funny. He _isn’t._ But he can’t help but laugh at the dumb grin on Harry’s face.

“Part of it’s just... being here, yeah? Dubai. I keep turning round and expecting him to be there.”

Harry isn’t grinning anymore. He’s nodding slowly and is looking at Niall carefully. He doesn’t reply and Niall knows he’s trying to be meticulous about what to say, but he can’t stand the silence.

“It was like that before, a bit. But it’s just... it’s different now. He was mad excited about getting to play here and now we’re here and…”

He trails off. He doesn’t know how to put what he’s feeling into words. It isn’t that it was easy before, but it wasn’t as hard as this. There were times when Niall could look at the other three boys and not feel like there was something missing.

Now that they’re in Dubai, it feels different. Everything he sees makes him think of Zayn. Everytime he turns around he’s forced to remember that Zayn isn’t there.

“We just need a little time,” Harry says softly. “It’s only been a week.”

“Feels longer than that.”

Harry nods and he’s leaning against one of the crates backstage. He looks casual and relaxed, but his eyes are fixed on Niall. He looks concerned and relaxed all at once. It should be jarring. Whenever Niall is worried, it shows in every muscle. Harry’s different.

“We’ll be okay. What you’ve been saying, isn’t it? We can do this.”

Niall shrugs and looks down. He has been saying it. He’s been telling them all that they’ll be all right. For the entire week, he’s been the one trying to convince them that they’ll be okay. It was easier then. He didn’t feel so off-kilter.

He doesn’t know what to say. He wants to believe that they can do this. He wants them all to believe that they can keep doing this. But he feels like there’s so much to worry about, he can’t help but worry about the band too.

“Everything all right, lads?”

Niall looks up and Louis is looking between them, eyes catching on Harry in a way he’s sure means something. Liam is trailing behind him and he doesn’t look any less worried or serious than he did when he dragged Louis away.

“Where’ve you two been, then?” Niall asks, avoiding Louis’ question entirely.

Liam looks at Louis with wide eyes, like he’s worried Louis is going to tell them exactly what they’ve been doing for hours. Louis doesn’t blink. His face goes blank, the way it only does when he’s trying to hide something.

“We’ll talk after the show,” he says firmly. “Band meeting, yeah? Got some things we need to discuss.”

Niall frowns. “A proper band meeting or a ‘you’re going to get us all drunk when we have to fly tomorrow’ band meeting?”

Louis’ mouth twists and he raises an eyebrow, trying to look imperious. No amount of twisting can hide the grin. “Guess you’ll just have to show up and find out, won’t you, young Niall?”

Niall keeps his eyes on Louis’, but he can’t tell if Louis is being serious or not. Does it have to do with why Liam looks so nervous? Why he’s been so distant since whatever happened in the gym? Is it about whatever Harry is keeping from him? Is it about Louis’ new ability, whatever he’s calling it? Or is it about Niall’s flashes? Something about the band?

Louis has his eyes fixed on Niall and he is suddenly hyper aware of the fact that Louis can probably feel every bit of his rising panic. Before he can think about it, before he can start feeling guilty or nervous about Louis seeing through him so thoroughly, Louis reaches out and squeezes his shoulder.

“Don’t stress about it, Nialler, all right? It isn’t anything terrible. Just not enough time now to get into it all.”

Niall relaxes. He isn’t quite reassured - Liam still looks nervous and uncomfortable, but Louis’ right. He takes a deep breath and tries to shake the worry away. He needs to be focused for the stage. If it was serious, Louis wouldn’t wait. He would _make_ time for them to talk about it.

“All right, then,” he says.

Louis narrows his eyes for a moment, obviously trying to decide if he was being honest or not. It isn’t long before he grins. “Then what are we hanging about for? Got a show to get on with, don’t we?”

Niall rolls his eyes and Louis takes off, bouncing down the hall. Harry follows immediately and drags a hand through his hair. Niall pauses, though. Liam is still looking anxious in a way he never does before a show.

“Everything okay, Liam?”

He looks up and for a minute, Niall is sure he’s going to try and lie. Tell him that everything is okay and there’s nothing to worry about. Then Liam looks down and shrugs, looking far too small.

“Whatever it is, it’ll be okay,” Niall says, too aware of the fact that he was standing just where Liam is a few minutes ago. “Just focus on the show for now, all right? Be in the moment. Focus on the crowd and the songs and me and Harry and Lou. Anything else can wait until after the show.”

It’s the same thing he tells himself before every show or interview. It’s the only thing that has ever helped him feel like he has control over the flashes, even if it’s an illusion of control. He isn’t sure how much it will help Liam, but it’s the only thing he can think to say.

Liam is looking at him with wide eyes. Slowly, he starts to relax. He still looks a little nervous and his face isn’t quite as open as it usually is, but he looks more like himself. More settled.

“Thanks, Nialler,” he says softly.

Niall grins, letting Liam drape an arm across his shoulders. “Not a problem, Payno. Need you at your best for the show, don’t we?”

Liam bends, wrapping himself around Niall as they walk down the hall. Niall twists and wraps an arm around Liam’s waist so they don’t stumble. He’s happy that Liam is more himself. The closer they get to the stage, the more Niall can feel himself relaxing too. He built up this show so much, worrying and worrying over it.

But it’s still just a show. It feels bigger than the others, but it’s still a show. If there’s one thing Niall can do, it’s make sure the fans have a good time. Even if they’re in Dubai and he’s missing Zayn like a lost limb, he can make sure the fans have a good show.

An idea strikes him as they get closer and closer to the stage. He remembers singing Zayn’s “Ready to Run” solo a few days ago, trying to give Harry’s voice a bit of a break and still trying to figure out who could fit in the spaces Zayn left. They’re _still_ trying to figure it out.

It hurt, but it was cathartic. There was something that he needed in it. Something about taking something so obviously Zayn’s and making it _his._ It hurt the way it hurts when he sings any of Zayn’s solos, but that one felt different.

He sticks close to Liam’s side and thinks about how much he doesn’t want to wake up feeling like he did last night. He doesn’t want to feel like he’s waiting for Zayn to show up again. As much as Niall wishes he could wake up and everything would be okay again, he knows it won’t happen. He doesn’t want to waste his time wishing things were different.

Niall wants to make things better. He wants to make things better for himself. He can’t do anything about the flashes, but he can do something about Zayn.

Getting ready for the show passes in a daze. It feels like he blinks and they’re standing in a huddle, pressed too close and elbows bumping. He has Liam on one side and Harry on the other, but his eyes are fixed on Louis.

There’s something different in his eyes. Something less defeated. He’s grinning at all of them the same way he always does before they go onstage, already feeling the adrenaline of the crowd. There’s something more sincere about the grin, though. Something softer and less manic. It’s not a smile of adrenaline and excitement for a show - it’s something fond. He looks less like he’s trying to fake confidence for them and more like he actually feels it.

Niall wonders what Louis needs to talk about later. Wonders if it’s why he’s like this.

They’re late getting onstage and the first few songs pass in a whirl of colour and noise. It isn’t until they’re on the B stage and he’s getting ready to sing “Where Do Broken Hearts Go” that the magnitude of the crowd and what they’re doing hits him. The stage seems bigger than before and the crowd, quiet in the way few crowds ever are, stretches out in one big and glittering shadow.

He wants to reach up and rip out his in-ears, hear what they _really_ sound like in this stadium. Hear what the thousands of people looking up at them hear. But he doesn’t have a free hand, not with his guitar.

So he focuses on the way Louis’ voice sounds on Zayn’s solo, coming right after his on the verse. They keep changing who sings where - they still don’t have it quite figured out yet. There’s something about the way Louis’ voice comes in right after his, big and bright and making Niall’s guitar sound smaller in comparison. He focuses on the way Liam slots his voice above Niall’s, their harmonies weaving together and the way Harry flits around stage in the corner of his eye, adding in extra notes wherever they can fit and singing out at full voice next to Louis.

He pulls Harry aside while Liam is singing the opening of “Strong.” He’s blowing kisses to the crowd, bowing, hair flying everywhere. Niall grabs his shoulder, angling his head away from the fans and next to Harry’s ear.

“Lemme sing the bridge,” he says, stepping back and meeting Harry’s eye.

Harry frowns and looks at him carefully for a moment, but nods. He turns back to the crowd as if nothing happened.

Niall doesn’t have his guitar, doesn’t have anything to do with his hands. He’s standing center stage and he feels adrift. The boys feel farther away now. There’s more distance between them, more stage that they need to cover.

He can feel his nerves showing, the way he’s swaying in place and hardly moving. He keeps turning to face Sandy and Dan or shifting his feet. He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous. He’s sung all the boys solos at one point or another. Usually at home or backstage when he’s playing guitar and just singing for the sake of it, for no one but himself.

But he is. He’s nervous to sing this.

He pulls his mic away at the end of the chorus, knows he won’t have the breath to go straight into the bridge if he tries to finish. He waits for the rhythm change at the bridge, takes a deep breath.

Niall sings. For the first line or two, his throat feels strangled. He wonders if Louis or Liam are surprised, if fans will have videos to rip apart about why they both might be looking at Niall. He squares his shoulders, supporting his voice more. He can do this. He pulls at his in-ear so he can hear himself better.

Niall sings and he’s singing about needing someone else so he doesn’t fall apart, but all he can think is that it isn’t true. He needs the three boys onstage with him. He needs Zayn too, even when he’s still angry at him and worried that Zayn doesn’t need him anymore.

He needs them because they’re his family. But he does need their help. He needs them so he can keep _himself_ from falling apart.

It seems a silly distinction, but it feels like something has finally slid into place. It finally makes sense now.

He holds out Zayn’s high note, liking how clear his voice sounds to his own ear. He starts singing his own solo and he knows what he needs to do now. He knows that he can’t go on like he has been, that keeping everything to himself isn’t working anymore. Telling Louis helped, but it still isn’t enough.

Niall’s going to tell them about the flashes. Everything. He’s not going to hold anything back. It hasn’t worked so far and it won’t work now.

The last thing Niall wants is to worry them, but they’re worried anyway. It will be easier and better for them all if he just tells them the truth. No games and no lying or half-truths. Just the truth.

His chest feels lighter and his head clearer. In a few hours he won’t have any secrets left with his boys.

 

* * *

 

Niall insists they shower before they had a band meeting. They’re always sweaty and disgusting coming offstage and they always take cars straight back to the hotels, racing out of the stadium to beat the fans and the mad rush of traffic. They don’t usually have plans immediately after a show. Sometimes Louis and Zayn would go out to a club and party until they couldn’t see straight anymore. Sometimes Liam and Niall would join them.

None of them have felt much like partying lately.

Louis tries to immediately usher them all to his hotel room, but Niall refuses. “We meet at my room in a half hour,” he says firmly. “Every one of you needs a shower.”

“Because you’re all sunshine and roses right now, Horan,” Louis scoffs.

“Half hour, Lou!” Niall calls after him as he heads towards his own room. “Don’t waste time messing with your hair, you’ll be sleeping on it in a few hours anyway.”

“Fuck off!” Louis calls back lightly.

Niall shakes his head and Liam is already heading towards his own room, but Harry hasn’t moved. “Not kidding, H. Go shower. We all stink.”

Harry pouts and folds his arms. “My hair will take ages to dry,” he finally whines.

Niall rolls his eyes. “Jesus Christ, just throw it up in a bun or something. Use a blow dryer.”

He looks at him like Niall suggested he go jump off a cliff or something. “Blow dryers ruin your hair, Niall.”

“Can’t ruin it more than it is already,” he replies, knowing it will make Harry’s eyes go big and offended. It’s too easy to rile him up sometimes. He reaches up and ruffles his hair, making it fall in his face and laughing when Harry pouts even more. “Just go, you big baby.”

“M’not a baby,” he replies shoving his hair out of his face.

“Whining like one, though.”

He laughs when Harry glares, hip checking him before unlocking his door. Harry is still pouting at him when it closes. Niall heads for the bathroom right away and turns on the water before stripping off his sweaty stage clothes.

Niall gets into the shower, letting the water hit his shoulders and leaning back to wash the hairspray and gel out of his hair. He doesn’t know what Louis wants to talk about, but he doesn’t feel anxious anymore. He feels so much _lighter_ than he did a few hours ago. He was so scared and felt like there was no hope of making anything better.

He’s going to tell the boys about his flashes. He’s scared of how they’ll react, that they’ll be mad he kept it secret for so long or think he’s lying, but it’s better. It’s better than being terrified that something might happen and they’ll find out some other way.

He’s quick in the shower and wraps a towel around his waist and rubs at his hair with another. He’s pulling on a pair of jogging bottoms when there’s a knock on the door. Niall glances at the clock beside his bed - it’s only been about ten minutes, so it has to be Liam. Harry and Louis wouldn’t have been so quick.

He pulls on a shirt and keeps rubbing at his hair with the towel, making sure to dry it properly so it doesn’t drip in his eyes. He opens the door and Liam slips inside, hair damp and in a hoodie.

“Feeling better, Li?” Niall asks, worried that now Liam doesn’t have the show to focus on he’ll go back to being worried and jumpy.

Liam nods and smiles. It may not be the brightest or most open smile he’s ever seen on Liam, but it’s only just barely tense around the edges.

“Yeah,” he says softly, “you give good advice, Nialler.”

Niall scoffs and rubs at his hair one last time before folding the towel and returning it to the bathroom. “What do you think Louis wants to talk about?”

Liam’s looking down when Niall comes back out. He doesn’t look worried, but he does look nervous.

“I think it has to do with me,” Liam says quietly and he does sound worried now. “I talked to him earlier, told him something. And he said we needed to have a band meeting.”

Niall frowns. That doesn’t sound like Louis. If Liam was worried about something and told Louis about it, Niall can’t imagine that Louis wouldn’t try to talk it out with him. Make him see that he didn’t need to worry so much or find a way to help Liam fix it or see he didn’t need to fix it.

Louis isn’t one to force someone to tell secrets.

“If you don’t want to tell us something, you don’t have to. You know that, yeah?”

Liam looks up and bites his lip. “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you - “

Niall shakes his head. “I’m not mad, Li. You talk to Lou about things you don’t talk to the rest of us about. We know that, it’s all right. We’re not gonna be mad if you tell him something and you don’t want to tell us.”

He waits, knowing Liam wants to say something from the way he’s frowning. “I know that. It’s not that I _don’t_ want to tell you and Harry. It’s just... hard. It’s weird.”

Niall wants to say something, but he’s not sure what can be said. “Can’t be _that_ weird, mate. Not compared to the shit Lou or Harry have pulled.”

Liam laughs and there’s another knock on the door. Niall pats him on the shoulder and goes to open it. Harry’s on the other side scowling, hair wet and pulled back in a bun.

Niall laughs. He’s pouting and he looks like a wet cat or something and Niall can’t stop laughing. He steps aside, letting him come in, but can’t say anything through his laugher.

He has to bend over from laughing, especially when he hears Liam ask, “What’s wrong, Harry?”

“I’m sure that whatever you’re laughing at isn’t _that_ funny, Niall,” Louis’ voice floats in from the hallway.

He straightens and Louis is standing in the doorway, eyebrow raised and trying desperately to keep the grin off his face. “Harry’s grumpy because we made him wash his hair.”

Louis laughs, loud and explosive. It’s the best kind of laugh, the kind he can never seem to contain. He and Niall both look at Harry and Niall knows Harry is trying to glare, but his bottom lip is still sticking out making his cheeks go soft and for a moment he looks younger than he is.

“Thought this was meant to be a band meeting,” Harry grumbles. “So far you’re just making fun of me.”

“Not our fault you make it easy,” Niall says with a grin, wrapping his arms around Harry’s shoulders and clinging to his side. “C’mon, Haz, you know you love us.”

Harry tries to shake him off, but Niall knows it’s half-hearted and just leans on him even more. Liam tries to stop them, warn them that they’re going to fall over, but Harry keeps squirming so Niall has to keep pushing further.

They tumble to the ground and Louis’ laughter is loud in the quiet of the hotel room. Liam’s worrying over them and trying to hide how amused he really is, but there’s nothing to worry about. Niall’s not an idiot, he knows better than to fall on his bad knee even when he’s fooling around.

Harry scowls up at him, but his eyes are sparkling the way they always do when he’s pleased with himself. Niall can see the hints of a smirk forming in the corners of his frown. He grins brightly and leans down, kissing Harry square on the nose.

Just like Niall knew he would, he sputters out a laugh.

“All right, lads, enough of that,” Louis says in a haughty voice, but when Niall looks up he’s grinning. “Time to get to business, yeah? No time for all this.”

“You’re just jealous,” Harry tells him primly.

“Jealous of what? You two flopping on the ground like a couple of fish?”

“Jealous that you’re not getting kisses from Niall,” Harry replies with a smug grin.

Louis rolls his eyes, but his mouth twists.

“Got plenty of kisses for everyone,” Niall replies, getting up off the ground and holding out a hand to Harry. “You just have to deserve them.”

“So not being able to take a joke is deserving of kisses now?” Louis asks, sounding affronted.

Harry pulls himself up, hand wrapped around Niall’s, but Niall looks at Louis with a smirk. “I decide what’s deserving of kisses, Tommo. Just have to try and figure out what’s deserving if you want one so bad, won’t you?”

Louis smirks. “Think I’ll manage.”

“All right, then,” Niall says, going over to sit on the edge of his bed. “What’s this all about? What do we need to talk about?”

Harry sits on the bed, immediately stretching out his legs behind Niall. Liam crosses the room and pulls out the desk chair, moving it closer to the bed before sitting down. Louis is looking at them all carefully, mouth thin and hands twisting together.

“Okay. Right. Something… weird,” he says, pausing and trying to pick his words carefully, “is happening to the lot of us. Think we need to talk about it.”

The room immediately goes quiet and still. The silence hangs heavy in the air. Louis keeps twisting his hands and his eyes flit from one of them to another quickly.

“What do you mean?” Harry asks and he sounds serious and on the verge of angry.

“It’s about what we talked about,” Niall says quietly, “back in Cape Town. Isn’t it?”

Louis looks at him and after a moment, he nods. “Yeah. There’s more than that now, but yeah.”

Niall knows that he’s looking to him to make sure this is okay. That it’s Louis asking if it’s all right that they talk about it with the other boys. If it’s okay to share this with them.

Niall holds his gaze for a long moment. He knows that if he told Louis no, if he didn’t want to tell the boys about his flashes, that Louis would keep quiet. He would just tell them about his own newfound ability and leave Niall out of it. He wouldn’t like it, but he would. He’ll give Niall an out.

But Niall’s made his decision already. He doesn’t need an out.

“There’s something I never told you boys,” Niall says, holding Louis’ gaze for a moment before turning so he can see both Liam and Harry. “Just... never thought it was very important.”

Louis moves, leaning against the dresser so he can still keep an eye on all three of them. “And mine just started a week ago. Thought I was going mad at first, that it was all in me head or something.”

“What’s going on?” Harry asks, voice still hard and almost angry.

Niall glances at Louis and knows that he’s going to have to say something first. Louis’... ability is too hard to explain. Niall’s flashes are easier to talk about out loud. He’s been explaining them to himself for years, finding ways to think about it that wouldn’t make his head hurt. Louis hasn’t had a chance to do that yet.

“Ever since I was a kid, I’ve gotten these flashes,” Niall says quietly. “One minute I’ll be looking at something and then I’ll blink and everything will go fuzzy and it’s like I’m somewhere else.”

“What do you mean somewhere else?”

Niall turns to Liam and his eyes are wide and confused in a way he didn’t expect. He doesn’t feel like he said enough for Liam to look like that. He hasn’t explained it well enough for Liam to be so shocked.

“Don’t know for sure, really. I think they’re little pieces of the future. Sometimes, at least. Not all the time. It’s like... a possible future? It’s always something that feels like it _could_ happen. Just doesn’t always end up happening.”

Liam is looking at him with wide eyes. He doesn’t look like he’s questioning Niall, but there’s obviously something that’s shaken him. Something about what Niall said scared him. It feels like there’s something stuck in the back of his throat and he has to look away.

“For the past week,” Louis says, voice firm and pitched low, “I’ve been feeling things. Out of nowhere. Angry or sad or tired or happy for no reason. Didn’t really figure it out until Niall’s panic attack. Soon as I walked in the room, it was like I was having one too. But it wasn’t me, it was him. I was just feeling it too.”

Niall looks at Louis, but Louis’ eyes are on Harry. There’s something in his eye, in the way he’s holding his jaw, that’s scared and sorrowful. Niall turns to Harry and he looks hurt. Like Louis’ done something awful and he got caught in the crossfire.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Harry - “

“No. _No._ You’ve known for days and you didn’t say anything?”

Niall frowns. There’s something else going on here. Something they’re not saying.

“What, you’re saying I should have told you first?” Louis snaps, every inch of him turning sharp. He pushes off of the dresser and his fists are clenched at his side.

“You’ve known about me for _years_. You knew I was upset and you didn’t say anything!”

“Boys,” Niall tries to intervene.

Louis talks over him. “Just because I was the only one _you_ told doesn’t mean I had to go running to you first.”

“That’s bullshit and - “

“Shut up!” Niall interrupts, standing up and forcing Louis to take a step back. “What the fuck are you two talking about?”

They both lock eyes around Niall for a moment. Louis’ the one who breaks, shakes his head and turns away. He goes to the arm chair in the corner and sits, crossing his arms and ankles immediately. He won’t look at any of them, but Harry is still glaring and Liam looks like he’s ready to curl up around one of them.

This isn’t going to happen. They’re all adults, for fuck’s sake. It’s not primary school where you trade a secret for a secret. They can talk about this like adults.

“Harry,” Niall says firmly, “why the fuck are you so mad about Louis not telling you? If he didn’t want to say anything, he didn’t want to say. You gonna yell at me next?”

He looks up at Niall and shakes his head. His eyes still look tight and he still looks furious, but not at Niall. “It’s different.”

“Yeah, it is. Difference is Louis’ kept it secret for a week and I’ve kept it secret for almost five years. So why’re you mad at him?”

Harry looks up at him, but doesn’t reply. He raises an eyebrow. He isn’t going to let Harry get away with pouting and evading the question. This isn’t something he can find a way to wiggle out of. He’s going to answer whether he likes it or not.

But Harry doesn’t say anything.

Niall resists the urge to just walk out. It won’t help. Harry’s being frustrating and Niall wishes he could just leave and go steal Harry’s bed for some sleep, but he can’t. They have to see this through.

“Liam,” Louis interrupts, “tell them what you told me earlier.”

Niall wishes he could read the look on Louis’ face. Wishes he could understand the reason he looks so guilty and angry all at once. Niall can see him trying to control expression, see him biting at his lips and turning his head. But he still looks so angry, even though he isn’t looking at Harry anymore.

“Louis, are you sure - “

“You heard me and Niall, mate,” Louis interrupts. “You’re not alone.”

Niall turns to look at Liam and realises, suddenly, why Louis pushed this. Why he so obviously wanted to get them to give up secrets they’d trusted with him and why Harry is so angry and so sullen and quiet.

“Li,” he says quietly, “you can do something too, can’t you?”

Liam nods, but he’s biting his lip. He doesn’t say anything and Niall turns on Harry. He’s still glaring at Louis, seemingly ignoring the conversation entirely.

“You can too, can’t you, Haz?”

Harry looks up at Niall, still so sullen and so angry. He nods shortly and folds his arms across his chest. “Can make other people feel what I’m feeling.”

Niall blinks and it’s like everything _clicks._ The overheard conversation and the times he looked at Harry over the past few days and could feel the guilt rolling off him. The moment he thought he would be okay, that he wasn’t going to be ill and the way it all crashed back down the moment Harry stepped away.

“Harry - “

Before Niall can finish, Harry stands and Niall’s afraid he’s going to make for the door. Walk out and pretend the conversation never happened. Niall reaches forward and grabs his wrist.

“What’s got you so mad?”

Harry swallows and his jaw looks soft the way it only ever does when he’s upset, trying to stop himself from looking as upset as he feels. He glances down at Niall’s hand and then back up at him.

Slowly, he starts to feel guilty and hurt. It’s burning in his chest uncomfortably. He feels like he could be knocked over by wanting to help, wanting to do something to really _help._ The fear and guilt that he did something wrong. Under it all is the sharp feeling of being forced to do something he didn’t want to, feeling betrayed and wanting to lash out at everything around him.

“Harry, knock it off,” Louis says roughly.

It all vanishes and Niall can only blink, trying to wrap his head around what happened. He looks up at Harry. He’s biting his lip and glancing at Niall from the corners of his eyes carefully. Niall knows that he’s ready to bolt - that he’ll leave if there’s even a hint of Niall reacting badly.

“Got nothing to be guilty about,” Niall says in a low voice. “All right? Nothing at all.”

Harry looks away from him and Niall takes a step closer. Harry got his arm away from Niall, but he isn’t going to let Harry get further.

“Harry. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I made you have the panic attack,” he says, voice so low that Niall wouldn’t be able to hear if the room weren’t so hushed. “I tried to stop you from feeling ill and it didn’t work. I made it worse.”

Niall has to bite his lip, make himself breathe for a moment before he says anything. He isn’t going to lie and say Harry didn’t make things worse. He won’t do that. But it’s just as stupid for Harry to blame himself.

“You don’t get to do that anymore,” Niall says firmly. “If I don’t feel well, I don’t feel well. You’re not going to be able to change that with any kind of magic.”

Harry nods, looking down. If his hair wasn’t tied back in a bun, it would be hanging in his face. Niall takes a step closer. He’s crowding into Harry’s space, but Harry’s never minded much. Not the way Niall can find himself caring sometimes.

“You don’t get to make my panic attack your fault, either,” he says, voice quiet and firm. “They don’t have to do with you. Don’t make them about you.”

“Still feels like my fault.”

“It’s not,” Niall repeats firmly. “It’s _not about you._ I was freaked out because of my flashes, all right? Didn’t have anything to do with you.”

Harry looks up at him and he still looks upset and guilty. Niall tugs him forward, wrapping his arms around Harry’s shoulders and gripping him tight. He doesn’t let him get away with anything half-hearted, holds on tight and refusing to let go.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters into Niall’s neck.

Niall shakes his head. “Just don’t do it again, yeah? If I want you to cheer me up I’ll ask for a cuddle. Don’t need your magic emotions.”

Harry pulls back and pouts at him. “It’s not magic.”

“Sure it’s not, H,” Niall replies. He turns to Liam who is still curled up in the desk chair. His eyes are fixed on his knees.

Niall isn’t sure what to do. He knows that Harry’s still mad at Louis, can tell by the way he refuses to look at Louis and the lingering, foreign feeling of wanting to lash out. Louis isn’t looking at Harry either, his eyes fixed on Liam.

“Li,” Louis says in a low voice, kicking out a foot to nudge his leg. “C’mon, then.”

Liam looks up at him and Niall wants to step in, wants to pull Liam in the same way he did Harry. But he doesn’t know what’s wrong. He doesn’t know why Liam is so upset.

“Lou - “

“Liam,” Niall interrupts. “Just tell us, all right? Can’t be any weirder than what the rest of us are saying.”

“I just don’t know how to explain it,” he says quietly. “I didn’t think it was anything at first? But it kept happening. I keep... seeing things? But things that have already happened. It’s not like a memory, though, it’s like I’m living it all over again. But it’s not the way I remember it? _”_

Niall frowns and chews on his thumbnail idly. He thinks he knows what Liam is trying to say and the implications feel too big. He doesn’t know why this is happening, why Louis and Liam are suddenly able to do these things now when he and Harry have been able to do it for years. He doesn’t know how they could ever figure out if there _is_ an answer to that.

“What do you mean?” Harry asks.

“You’re seeing something that happened, but you’re not seeing it as you,” Niall says quietly. “That’s it, isn’t it?”

Liam looks at him and before he says anything, Niall knows he has it right.

“Yeah,” Liam says softly. “I keep seeing things that we’ve done, but not... as me.”

“You feel it too,” Niall says. “You see something and you feel what we were feeling.”

“How do you know that?” He sounds confused and a little awed.

It isn’t impressive. Not really. Not when Niall has spent most of his life thinking about his flashes, trying to wrap his mind around them. Liam described his flashes, just in reverse.

“That’s what mine are like,” he says simply. “It’s always me, but I feel things that don’t make sense because I don’t know what’s happening.”

The room is quiet and Niall wonders if they’re thinking the same thing he is. If they’re thinking about how these strange abilities, whatever they’re supposed to call them, are similar to each other. How Liam’s seeing bits of the past and Niall is seeing bits of the future. How Harry can make people feel whatever he feels and Louis feels what other people are feeling.

That isn’t the only thing they have to worry about, though.

“As long as we’re being honest and all that,” Niall starts, “my flashes have been worse. I never used to get them so much. Never remembered ‘em very well either. Ever since I started getting them, they’ve basically been the same. They’re different now.”

He looks up at them and bites his lip. He doesn’t know how to explain how much the flashes are changing. He doesn’t want to have to give a speech about how scared he is, but he doesn’t know how to describe how different things are now. He wants them to understand, he just doesn’t know how to help them understand.

“We’ve got you,” Harry says firmly, intense in a way that Harry only ever seemed to manage.

“We should get some sleep,” Louis says. “You and Liam are flying out tomorrow morning, aren’t you?”

Niall nods absentmindedly. They’re flying back to London and then pretty much the next day Niall has to fly to the states for the Masters. He’s had so much to worry about, he hasn’t given himself a chance to worry about how he might embarrass himself there.

Louis pulls Liam out of the desk chair and Harry steps forward, hugging Niall briefly before leaving the room. Niall watches as Louis pushes Liam towards the door. If he didn’t see how it made the frown fade from Liam’s face, the way Louis bullying him into movement made his shoulders drop and relax, he might have told Louis to knock it off.

He catches Louis’ eye and he wonders what Louis can feel from him. If he can feel anything at all or if it’s just the numb feeling of shock. Niall doesn’t know how he’s _meant_ to feel. He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to react to any of this.

He wonders if Louis has a better idea of what’s going on in his head than he does.

Louis pats him on the shoulder and then they’re gone, calling good nights over their shoulders. The hotel room feels too still. Too empty without the boys filling it up.

He thought telling the boys about the flashes would help him feel better. He didn’t realise that it would just give him more questions, more things to wonder about at night.

He throws himself down onto the bed and runs a hand through his hair. He wishes that something could be easy, that there was one thing he doesn’t have to fight tooth and nail for, that he doesn’t have to dig his fingernails into to keep a grip on it. It feels like no matter what they do, there’s an obstacle in the way trying to stop them.

Niall sighs and pulls out his phone. He stares at the dark screen for a moment, chewing on the corner of his lip. He unlocks it and goes to the message he sent to Zayn the night before, fingers moving fast before he can change his mind

He looks at the tiny blue checkmarks next to the message. He swallows the lump in his throat and drops his phone onto the bedside table, turning over in the bed to face the other way.

It was one thing to send Zayn messages and have them never be seen. To know that he might be looking at the notification and ignoring it, refusing to open the message. Knowing he opened it and read it and never replied hurts more than he wants to admit.

There’s so much to do in the next few months. There’s the album and the rest of tour on top of whatever is happening with his flashes and the other boys. Niall doesn’t want to have to worry about Zayn on top of it. He doesn’t want to have to worry about if Zayn is all right or not, if he’s taking care of himself when Niall isn’t there to make sure he isn’t getting too stuck in his head.

He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to keep from worrying if Zayn won’t talk to him.

Niall pulls the blankets up over him. He just wants to rest. He wants to be able to sleep through the night and wake up without feeling anxious.

He’s so exhausted that he falls asleep before he can remember to turn off the light.


	2. Chapter 2

Niall shoves himself into the airplane seat, stretching out his legs and making himself as comfortable as possible as soon as he gets on the plane. The jet is less crowded than usual. It’s just him and Liam and Paddy and Mark. Niall wanted to get back home as quick as he could so he would have a day or two at home, at least, before flying out for the Masters Tournament. Liam decided to join him, anxious to get home too.

It feels quieter than their flights usually do. Less to pack onto the plane, less people shuffling down the aisle. Niall feels like he could fall asleep if he wanted to.

Liam pushes himself into the seat across from Niall, bracketing his legs on either side of Niall’s. He watches Liam, noticing the way he seems to fidget more. He keeps glancing at Niall and looking away.

It’s driving Niall mad. Liam has been nothing but careful around them. Constantly second-guessing himself like back when they first met - unsure of himself and so scared. Niall pulled Liam after him wherever he went back then, knowing how _good_ Liam was and wanting him to be comfortable and happy. He wanted other people to see how good a person he was too.

He wonders if it’s the flashes that’s making Liam act like he’s seventeen again. Or maybe it’s just because of everything that’s happened in the last week. Niall knows that he feels off-balance and out of sorts without Zayn there. He knows the other boys have to feel the same.

Niall just hates seeing Liam look so unsure all the time.

He shifts, kicking out a foot to nudge Liam’s calf gently. Liam jumps and looks up at him with wide eyes. Niall frowns and watches as Liam blinks, looking around the cabin in confusion for a moment.

“You just had one, didn’t you?” Niall asks, keeping his voice low so Mark or Paddy or the pilot don’t overhear them and wonder what’s going on. Niall recognises the look of disorientation, the desperate feeling of trying to figure out where you really are after being somewhere else with no warning. 

Liam nods and scratches at his chin nervously. “Was back on the X Factor,” he says and Niall can hear the panic underneath his words.

Niall keeps his foot pressed against Liam’s leg. He still has his trainers on, but it’s more so Liam knows he’s there. So that he has something to focus on in the moment.

“Doesn’t sound so bad.”

Liam frowns, shifting in his seat. Around them, the pilot is getting settled in the cockpit and starting the engines so the quiet is filled with the muffled roar of the engines. Mark and Paddy are talking, taking seats somewhere behind him.

“It was a rehearsal,” Liam says quietly. “A few weeks in. I was... did you know…”

He trails off and Niall wonders what it’s like to feel someone else’s emotions, to see the world through their eyes. His flashes are confusing enough and he’s in his own head. He can’t imagine what it would be like to be in someone else’s head. How strange that would feel.

He presses his foot harder against Liam’s leg, reminding him he’s there.

“Did I know what?”

Liam looks up at him and for a moment Niall thinks he isn’t going to say anything else. That he’ll clam up and try to brush it off. Niall holds Liam’s eye and waits. He wants to know what’s bothering Liam, but he doesn’t want to push. He would hate if someone tried to force him to talk about a flash if he didn’t want to. He won’t do that to Liam.

“Did you know Louis was jealous?”

Niall frowns. Liam said it so fast that he had to think, try to understand what he said.

“Jealous of what?”

Liam looks down and shrugs, rubbing the side of his neck. “I don’t know. Not for sure. But... we were singing and he was looking at me and…”

“Liam,” Niall interrupts.

He shakes his head and slouches in his seat. “I just don’t know why he felt like that.”

“The only way you’ll know for sure is if you ask him. But you know he never felt great about his voice back then. He’s told us that.”

Liam doesn’t reply. They’re in the air now and he has to yawn to make his ears pop. He knows that Liam wants to say more. That he wants to keep talking about it.

Niall isn’t going to push. Whatever happened, it was almost five years ago.

“How often do you get them?” Niall asks instead.

Liam shrugs and shakes his head. “I don’t know, maybe a few every day or so? I haven’t been keeping track. Why? Is that important?”

Niall nods and scratches at his knee distractedly. “Hasn’t been an issue so far for you, but sometimes it feels like I’ll have one in the middle of something important. Like an interview or the middle of a conversation. Driving, even. I’ve got some….tricks, I guess? To try and stop them from happening until it’s safe.”

Liam’s looking at him wide eyes and Niall feels guilty, but he needs to know. Niall’s had years to figure out just how dangerous his flashes could be if one happened at the wrong moment. Liam needs to understand too.

“I didn’t think about that,” he says seriously, voice low. “Will people notice? What if I get one in the middle of a song?”

Niall shakes his head. “It’s not like that. It’s... the trick is staying in the moment, you know? Focusing on things around you and fixing onto them. That’s easy when we’re performing. I’ve never gotten one onstage or during a song. It doesn’t always work in interviews or things, but that’s easier to cover.”

Liam nods and Niall falls silent. He wants to figure all of this out. He wants to get a handle on all of this before it’s too late. There’s too much for them to do in the next few months, too much to worry about and work on. They need to get these abilities under control or they won’t make it to the end of the year.

Niall just doesn’t know how they’re supposed to do that. He has no idea what’s going on with his own flashes. He doesn’t know why they’re changing now after almost ten years. He doesn’t know how to deal with them anymore. Not effectively. He doesn’t know how he’s meant to help Liam when he’s still so terrified that something will go horribly wrong.

He wonders if Harry’s ability has been changing too. Or is it just Niall? He hopes Louis will be all right with his. Judging by Harry’s reaction last night, he won’t be jumping to help Louis figure it out.

What Niall really needs to do is talk to Louis. He’s the only one that will agree that they have to do something and might have an idea about what to do. Harry would brush him off, tell him that he’s overreacting and that it will work itself out. He wishes he could believe that, but they don’t know enough about whatever these weird magic tricks are. He can’t believe they’ll just work themselves out.

Niall refuses to give Liam anything else he thinks he needs to fix. He’d worry himself to death over trying to make it better.

Louis would understand, though. He’d get it. Niall doesn’t want to make it a big deal. He just wants to figure out how to deal with the changes. He knows he can’t change it, but he might be able to find a way to deal with it.

He just doesn’t know how, yet.

 

* * *

 

Niall feels like he shouldn’t be as nervous as he is. It feels ridiculous to be nervous about caddying when he was performing to seventy thousand people a few days ago.

But it’s different. He knows how good he is at performing. He knows exactly what to do onstage and what his strengths are and when he needs to lean on one of the other boys. It’s different, wanting to do well at something he knows he’s decent at, but has never had to do in front of loads of people before.

He feels sick and nervous the same way he does whenever they have to perform on awards shows or anywhere that isn’t their stage. He’s not even going to be playing. They might give him a swing if he’s lucky. He feels stupid for being so nervous, but he can’t help it.

He just wants to get started. He wants to get up and get dressed and get ready to go. But he woke up too early and now there’s no hope of getting back to sleep. He feels out of sorts - his skin is itchy and tight, his eyes fuzzy and his face too warm.

He picks up his phone and opens the group chat with the boys, ignoring the still-dormant one with Zayn. He hasn’t opened it, hasn’t touched the message he sent Zayn in Dubai either. He sends off a quick message - _shitting myself ! -_ before locking his phone again. It’s only eight in the morning back home. Louis will still be sleeping, Liam too if Sophia didn’t manage to get him up for breakfast.

His phone starts ringing and Niall looks at the screen before answering.

“Isn’t it nearly two in the morning in LA, H? Thought you’d be sleeping.”

“Not in LA at the mo’, though, am I?”

Niall frowns and pushes his hair off his forehead. “Where are you, then?”

“Back home for a bit,” Harry replies, his voice muffled a bit by static. “Flying out to LA soon to start writing, but wanted to come home for a bit first.”

Niall smirks. “Wanted your mum’s cooking, more like.”

“Hey,” Harry replies, voice going higher now that he’s offended. “I am a perfectly good cook, Niall.”

Niall scoffs because he know it will rile Harry up more. “Sure, Harry.”

“See if I call _you_ anymore. All I get is abuse.”

“And you always give as good as you get.”

“I was calling to cheer you on, but now I’m going to hope you fall on your face instead.”

Niall closes his eyes, still pulling at his hair. He’s never been great at phone calls. Hates not having anything to do with his hands.

“I really am bricking it. The fuck is wrong with me? Why’d I agree to this?”

“Don’t even know why they asked you, to be honest,” Harry replies, and Niall knows the exact look on his face. The exact way his eyebrows are raised and he’s trying to hold back a smile. “I”m obviously the better golfer. Should have asked me instead.”

Niall laughs and the sound echoes in the quiet of his hotel room. HIs room is high enough up that the streetlights don’t cast shadows, but headlights from the nearest highway still manage to catch his eye through the blinds.

“Shut up. You are _not.”_

“I’d be a better caddy, easy,” Harry says smugly. “Bag of clubs’ll be as big as you are.”

Niall rolls his eyes. “Yeah, and you’d have to be covered from head to toe. No one at the Master’s wants to see your dumb tattoos.”

“That hurts, Niall,” Harry says and Niall can hear the amusement in his voice.

“Good. Stop getting stupid tattoos.”

“I _like_ my tattoos, thank you.”

Niall shakes his head and grins. He loves Harry. “Doesn’t mean they aren’t dumb.”

“You’re so rude,” Harry whines.

“And you love me anyway.”

Harry sighs on the other end of the phone and Niall closes his eyes for a moment. He really is exhausted. He wants to go back to sleep, but he can’t. He still just feels too jittery.

Niall opens his eyes. The dark hotel room blurs out and he’s sitting on a sofa next to Harry. The room is bright and sunny, light fading in and out as the wind whistles against the glass of the windows. Neither of them say anything. He’s staring at Harry’s phone, but the screen goes dark before he can figure out what’s on it. His chest feels too light and too heavy all at once. There’s a warm feeling behind his ribcage and clawing it’s way up his throat, but he feels like he’s been doused with ice water at the same time.

He blinks and the sunny room is gone.

“Niall? Are you still there?”

He clears his throat, blinking in the darkness. He can see just as well as he could before the flash. He doesn’t need to adjust his vision at all, but the dark room is still a shock after the bright, warm room with Harry.

“Yeah,” he replies, voice sounding rough. “Sorry. Just had a... flash. Thing. What did you say?”

“You just had one?” Harry asks curiously. “Really?”

“Yeah. Nothing special.”

“You just _saw the future,_ Niall. How is that not special?”

Niall rolls his eyes. “I just saw us sitting in a room and looking at your phone, Harry. It wasn’t anything monumental.”

Harry’s quiet for a moment. Niall sighs. He knows where this is going. It’s not that he doesn’t want to talk about his flashes, it’s just that he isn’t sure how. Only thing he can do is hope that he can get Harry to talk about whatever it is he does as much as he’ll make Niall talk about the flashes.

“Can I ask you about them?” Harry asks and Niall knows that he understands. The way his voice has gone quiet and serious is enough for Niall to know. Harry understands how much it would mean if Niall says yes. He gets it in a way that Niall isn’t sure if Liam or Louis ever will.

“Go on, then,” Niall replies, surprised at how easy it comes.

“Have you seen things that are monumental? Or is it all just little things?”

“Depends on what you mean by monumental,” Niall replies. “It’s mostly little stuff, I think. They only last a few seconds, so even if it was something big I might not know it. Had one the other day of us performing a new song, though. Didn’t recognise it at all.”

“Wicked,” Harry murmurs. “When did you start getting them?”

“Right after I turned thirteen. Was convinced for a while I was turning into a proper superhero.”

Harry laughs and Niall grins. For a few months, he really thought that’s what was going to happen. Then he realised that sometimes he saw things that would never happen. He realised that sometimes the things he thought had the best chance of happening were the ones that didn’t. He learned to stop trying to figure out which ones would happen and which ones wouldn’t.

Niall almost wishes he hadn’t learned that. Maybe he could have done something to help Zayn if he thought him leaving was something that would definitely happen instead of something that might not have.

“When did you get your... thing?”

Harry chuckles. “My thing?”

Niall shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean. Whatever you call it.”

“Don’t call it much of anything, really. And I was thirteen, I think.”

Niall doesn’t say anything. He wonders if they both got these weird tricks at the same time. If even before they knew each other, before they ever met, they had this connection.

He’s being stupid. They all crossed paths enough before actually meeting to make him question how much of a coincidence those things really were. He’s not going to add this to the pile.

“What’s it like?” Niall asks quietly. “How do you do it?”

“Dunno, really,” Harry replies and the static is so severe that Niall can hardly understand him for a moment. “I don’t always mean to do it. When I try to do it on purpose, it’s a little bit like a push, I think? It feels like, uh, I’m pushing whatever I’m feeling out. Like... it’s a blanket and I’m throwing it over someone.”

“You’re so weird,” Niall says. But at the same time, it almost makes sense to him. Niall feels like he understands what he means.

“Hey, Harry,” Niall starts carefully, knowing that he’s about to tread dangerous water, “you should talk to Louis.”

“No,” Harry says immediately, sounding surly. “Why should I?”

“We’ve got to figure this out. Liam and Louis just got slammed with these... abilities. Whatever they are. They haven’t figured out how to deal with them yet. We’ve had years to figure it out.”

“If Louis wants my help, he’ll ask,” Harry replies shortly.

“Bullshit,” Niall snaps. “You know he won’t. You were a fucking prick and you know it.”

“You don’t get it.”

“I don’t,” Niall agrees. He doesn’t. He’s never been able to understand Harry and Louis, especially not in the past few years. But he knows Harry’s being an obstinate ass. “But it’s not _on,_ Haz. Are you really mad because he didn’t tell you?”

Harry huffs angrily and Niall rolls his eyes. If Harry were any more stubborn, he would be an actual bull. It makes Niall want to scream.

“He knew I didn’t want to say anything. He knew I didn’t want everyone to know.”

Niall sits up and swings his legs off the bed. “Everyone _doesn’t_ know. It’s just me and Liam.”

Harry doesn’t answer. Niall doesn’t want to be upset about it. He kept his flashes a secret for years. He can’t be mad that Harry wanted to do the same.

It still hurts. It hurts to know that even after Harry told Louis about his trick, he still wanted to keep it a secret.

“Forget it,” Niall says. “We’ll talk later, all right?”

“Niall - “ Harry cuts himself off.

“Yeah?”

He can hear Harry’s breath over the line. He feels like he could close his eyes and fall asleep if he tried now. Maybe. As long as he could close his eyes and know Harry was on the other end of the phone.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says. Niall knows it doesn’t change anything. “Good luck today. You’ll kill it.”

Niall sighs and rubs at his face. “Thanks, Harry.”

“Love you, Nialler.”

“Love you too. Tell Anne and Des hello from me.”

Harry hums and the line goes dead. Niall sighs and flops backwards onto the bed. It makes the muscles in his back and legs pull tight, but he doesn’t move.

“Fuck,” he says out loud, staring at the ceiling.

 

* * *

 

Niall’s going to kill them.

He loves Liam and Louis. He does. But he’s going to kill them.

They have him trending on Twitter. Worldwide. Or, more accurately, they have him _falling on his arse_ trending on Twitter.

Louis picks up on the first ring.

“Oh no, Niall!”

“I’m gonna fucking kill you both,” Niall growls over Louis crowing in delight. “Fucking arseholes, the both of you.”

Niall can hear Liam laughing in the background, but it fades away fast. “Now, now, Nialler. Don’t be rude!”

“Aren’t you fuckers meant to be working?”

“I think a worldwide Twitter trend is quite good for a day’s work,” Louis replies, sounding haughty and smug. He’s lucky Niall’s fucking attached to him, otherwise his first stop once he’s back home would be to kick Louis’ arse.

“Other than falling all over yourself, how was it? The whole... golf thing.”

Niall rolls his eyes. _Golf thing._ Caddying at the PGA Masters Tournament was just a _golf thing._

“Fine. Good. Fucking terrifying, but good.”

“Fans were loving it,” Louis replies. “Even before you fell on your face.”

Niall ignores the jibe and narrows his eyes. “Were you Twitter stalking me?”

Louis sputters and Niall grins. “ _Please,_ Nialler. Like I’d waste time trying to stalk your golf shit.”

“Oh? Then how’d you know fans were loving it, then?” Niall grins when Louis doesn’t reply. “You miss me already, Tommo?”

“Shut it, Horan,” Louis says and Niall knows he’s rolling his eyes.

Niall laughs. “How’s writing going?”

“You know,” Louis replies vaguely. “All just trying to get ideas down right now.”

“Any fun ones yet?”

“Eh…” Louis trails off and Niall can practically hear him shrugging. “A couple, maybe. Thinking of bringing back one from last year, reworking it a bit. Been thinking about messing with the verses more.”

Niall hums in reply, but doesn’t say anything. He knows that Liam and Louis have dozens of songs leftover from the last two albums. He thinks about the bits and pieces of songs and melodies he has scribbled down or floating around in his head. He can still hear Zayn’s voice on some of them. He wonders if some of Louis’ and Liam’s songs have parts with Zayn still in mind.

Niall isn’t sure if he wants to keep writing any of the bits and pieces he has already. They already have to find a way to fill in on songs from the last album, find a way to fill up the space Zayn left them with. It makes Niall feel heavy and tired.

“You all right, lad?”

Niall blinks and refocuses. “Yeah. Sorry.”

“When are you coming back home?” Louis asks. He sounds serious. Concerned.

“Later today. Be home early tomorrow.”

Louis pauses and Niall twists his neck. “Liam won’t mind if you want to stay home instead of go to his charity do. You know that, right?”

“I’m fine,” Niall insists. “I’ll be all rested up in time for Liam’s thing.”

Louis hums back at him and doesn’t sound convinced. Niall doesn’t blame him. He’s not sure if he believes himself. He just feels so tired. The exhaustion feels bone-deep. It’s the kind that doesn’t go away, not even after a good night’s sleep.

But he’ll deal with it. He always does. So do the other boys.

“I’m just missing home,” Niall says, even though it’s not entirely true. “Missing being in one time zone for longer than a few days.”

“Home soon, though.” Louis’ voice is soft through the static of the phone and Niall closes his eyes. “Then you won’t have to change time zones for what, a month?”

“Near enough.”

“There we go, then,” Louis replies quietly. “How’s your head been? Still getting headaches?”

Niall twists his neck again, trying to crack it. “Not as much,” he replies. “Flashes aren’t quite as bad anymore either. Don’t know why it’s changing again.”

“Don’t question it. Just be happy you don’t have anymore bloody headaches.”

“Oh, I am. Just worried about the flashes, is all.” Niall sighs and bites at his thumbnail absentmindedly. “How are you doing? With the whole emotion sponge thing?”

Louis laughs, so loud and sharp that Niall has to pull the phone away from his ear. “All right, I guess,” he replies, a grin still colouring his voice. “Weird as fuck, especially in a club.”

Niall relaxes. He was worried about how Louis was dealing with it, whether it was too much to handle like his flashes were when he first started getting them. The first week, before he realised what was happening, Niall spent it hiding under his covers in bed because his head hurt so much and the flashes were so strange.

If it isn’t bothering Louis, that’s one less thing to worry about.

“I should probably get back to Liam,” Louis replies. “Make sure he hasn’t decided to try and write a song with, like, pots and pans as percussion.”

Niall laughs and has to sit up just so he can bend over. “He didn’t,” he manages to choke out.

“Not yet,” Louis replies, the grin showing in his voice, “but I don’t think it’s far off. You never know with Payno. Was talking about, like, big bands earlier? Think he wants to add in one of those giant drum things. The ones as big as a sofa. What’re they called?”

“Timpanis,” Niall replies, still laughing. “Imagine, us on stage in front of one of them big bands. All huddled round one of those old microphones.”

“We’d look ridiculous,” Louis agrees, laughing.

“Be pretty cool, though,” Niall says, more to himself than to Louis. “Not, like, performing like that. But having a bit of trumpets or something in a song. Would be exciting, yeah?”

“You gonna write us a song with some trumpets, then?”

“Nah,” Niall replies. “What would that even sound like?”

“Dunno, Nialler, you’re the one writing it.” Niall laughs, but Louis talks over him. “You’d smash it if you did write one, though.”

“It’d be better than Liam’s pots and pans, that’s for sure.”

Louis laughs again and it’s the same too-loud, too-bright one that he can’t fake. “Have a safe trip back, yeah? See you on Thursday.”

“Yeah, yeah. Get to work. No more Twitter, you hear?”

“We’ll see about that,” Louis chuckles, breath making the connection go staticky.

Niall shakes his head and ends the call. He sighs and stares at his phone for a moment, tapping his foot lightly.

“Fuck it,” he says, opening up a note on his phone. He hums to himself while he types out something about trumpets and trombones. It would sound ridiculous. It would never work for them. But writing out some ideas wouldn’t hurt.

 

* * *

 

Niall doesn’t think Liam has stopped smiling since they stepped foot on the red carpet. He’s watching from across the room and Liam’s going round, thanking everyone for coming. Even while he talks to people, his smile is so big that it makes the corners of his eyes wrinkle and his face go soft.

The room is dimly lit, but Liam is shining. The blue of his suit catches every spare bit of light and his smile reflects it back.

Niall tugs at his collar, trying to hide his grin while he takes a drink. He sputters, nearly spilling champagne all over his very white jacket, when Louis drops down in the seat next to him.

“He smashed it, didn’t he?” Louis asks, nodding his head towards Liam.

“Killed it,” Niall replies. He glances over at Louis and bites his lip. He’s looking at Liam softly, eyes shining bright and his entire face shining with pride.

Niall feels stupid and sentimental, but seeing Liam so happy and bright and Louis so fond and soft makes his chest feel too big. Like there’s a hot air balloon in it that keeps filling with air. He feels weightless for the first time in what feels like ages.

“You ready for your match?” Niall asks, trying to push down all the warm feelings in his chest.

Louis leans back in his chair, shoulder knocking into Niall’s. Even through their dress jackets, Louis feels warm next to him. Niall leans in, pressing closer.

“Don’t feel like I am,” he replies, “but I guess I’m not going to be anymore ready by Sunday.”

Niall nods, watching as Liam wraps an arm around Sophia and bends so he can say something in her ear. She laughs, covering her mouth with her hand and turning her head into Liam’s shoulder. He smiles down at her even wider.

“More worried ‘bout the whole label thing, if I’m honest,” Louis says quietly.

Niall turns and Louis is still watching Liam, but his mouth is small and Niall knows he’s trying his damnedest to keep a straight face.

“When’s that being announced?”

Louis laughs, but it’s bitter and nervous. “Tomorrow,” he says, sounding shocked. “Don’t know why they want to announce it so soon. Won’t be able to do anything with it for close to a year, at least.”

“You’ll smash it, though,” Niall replies. “You really will, Lou.”

Louis shrugs, but Niall knows. He’s seen how Louis gets about music. He plays it off well, manages to hide just how much he cares and just how good he is, but Niall’s seen it. Louis can hide it from other people, but he can’t hide it from them.

He remembers years ago when they were trying to finalize the set for Take Me Home, their first real world tour. They wanted the set to be _perfect._ They knew they needed something else to round it out, a cover that could fit with their own music, they just didn’t know _what._ He remembers the way Louis stayed quiet at first, the way Niall could tell he was thinking. He remembers how proud he felt when Louis figured it out.

It felt like something _clicked._ Others might have been skeptical, but Niall knew. He knew how good they would sound. He knew what a perfect choice it was.

Louis has always been the one to push them forward. He’s had help - hasn’t done it all alone - but in the end, Louis was always there to push them further. Even back in the beginning.

“I’m serious,” Niall says firmly. “You’re gonna be great.”

“I want to be,” he replies and Niall can hear how much he does want it. “I just don’t want to abandon anyone, you know? I don’t want to find someone good and then leave them in a room of strangers. If I’m the one signing them, I want to really help them, you know? Afraid there won’t be any time for that. Or I won’t be any real kind of help.”

Niall turns to look at him. Maybe it’s because he was already feeling so sentimental, but he feels like he could float away. He’s proud of all the boys, but Niall can’t help but think he might be proudest of the way Louis looks after people. Louis takes care of people just the way they need. He’s kind, but not smothering.

“You’ll find a way,” Niall says confidently. “You’ll make sure the people in the room aren’t strangers if you can’t be there. Make sure they’re just as good as you. You’ll find a way to stay involved even if you’re on the other side of the world. And you _will_ be a real help. Of course you will.”

Louis’ looking at him seriously, taking in what Niall’s saying. Good. It’s time Louis understands how important he is to other people.

“It’s what you _do,_ Lou. You make people feel safe. You look out for them and help them be great.”

“All right, Horan. Calm down with the compliments. You’ll give me a big head.”

Niall doesn’t laugh, doesn’t let Louis get away from the conversation by joking. He reaches out and taps his fingers on Louis’ thigh. Louis looks down at his hand and the fake smile slides off his face.

“I’m proud of you. Really proud.”

Louis swallows and looks up. The way Louis looks at him makes Niall want to pull him close. He looks young and like he’s afraid Niall will suddenly reveal he’s been joking the whole time.

Niall isn’t joking. He holds Louis’ gaze and waits for him to nod. He looks away and fidgets in his seat. Niall leans back, watching while Scott Mills finds Liam and they start talking, both using big hand gestures.

 _“Fuck,”_ Louis curses suddenly, nearly falling off his chair as he tries to get to his feet.

Niall frowns and stands as Louis stumbles.

“Lou, are you - “

Louis rushes towards the doors, ignoring Niall and looking wobbly on his feet. Niall follows, trying to keep pace with him. Louis freezes just outside the doors, bracing a hand against the wall and holding a hand to his face. The corridor’s brighter than the dining hall and Louis looks pale under the lights.

“Don’t - “ Louis manages to choke out. “Just - stay there.”

Niall doesn’t move. He wants to reach out and touch Louis’ shoulder, the back of his neck, his cheek - wants to reach any bit of him to make sure he’s okay. But he stays where he is.

Louis told him to stay. So he won’t move.

Slowly, Niall can see the line of Louis’ shoulders relaxing. He turns so he can press his back against the wall, head tilted back. His eyes are closed and he doesn’t look pale anymore, but his cheeks look flushed.

“Lou,” Niall murmurs, “you all right?”

Niall can see his throat move as he swallows, keeps his gaze fixed on Louis’ face. He opens his eyes for a moment, wildly searching for Niall. He closes them just as quickly and Niall wants to take a step closer, but he doesn’t move. He just wants to know if Louis is okay.

“Sorry,” Louis says through a sigh. “Sorry, just… felt sick all of a sudden.”

Niall frowns and has to curl his toes so he doesn’t step forward. But Louis told him to stay where he was and Niall knows it’s important that he listen. If Louis wants him closer, he’ll say.

“Louis,” Niall says and his voice feels too low, too serious, “what happened?”

Louis takes a deep breath and slides down the wall. His jacket pulls at his arms and he braces them against his knees, letting his head hang down.

“It was the… you know, emotion thing,” Louis says softly, sounding stretched out and exhausted. “Was fine one minute then it was like I couldn’t breathe. Think I started feeling everything everyone in there was feeling? Wanted to… I don’t know. Go out dancing and go to bed and hit something and be sick all at once.”

Niall bites at the inside of his lip. He didn’t realise it could come on so quick like that. Didn’t really have any idea what it was like for Louis, except what he said when he first told Niall about it. He didn’t think about how overwhelming it could be.

“And now?”

Louis sighs and it sounds long and heavy. “Just me, I think,” he says quietly, leaning his head back. It hits the wall hard enough to make Niall wince, but Louis doesn’t flinch. He opens his eyes and looks exhausted. “Maybe a bit of you. Worried ‘bout me.”

“‘Course I am,” Niall replies easily. “Can I…?”

He gestures towards Louis and after a long few seconds, Louis nods. Niall steps forward and he sits next to Louis, purposely leaving some space between them. He knows that their stylists will have their hides for dirtying their suits, but Niall doesn’t care.

“Has it happened like this before?”

Louis shrugs and the space between them feels like a chasm. It’s less than a meter, but after the easy warmth they just had, it feels insurmountable. Niall can’t reach out and touch Louis - he doesn’t know how it works. Is it stronger if Louis’ touching someone? Or does it not matter? Niall doesn’t know. He doesn’t want to make things worse because he wasn’t careful enough.

“Not really,” Louis says through tight lips. His eyes are closed again. “Made sense before, I guess? Was onstage and knew why people felt the way they did, the way they were making me feel. Or it was when I came in and Harry and Liam were scared and you were having your attack. Had… context, I guess.”

Niall nods. “But you didn’t have that now. Everyone in there was focused on something different.”

“Yeah,” Louis replies, voice small and tired. He opens his eyes and looks over at Niall. “Not sure what I’m supposed to do with this, if I’m honest.”

Niall doesn’t know what to say. He’s never done anything with his flashes. Not really. But his flashes have never been like what Louis described, except for the one in Cape Town. He’s never felt like he _needed_ to do something with his flashes. They’ve just been there.

There’s nothing he can say to help Louis. He doesn’t know what it feels like to suddenly feel someone else’s emotions or to feel like he needs to use it _for_ something.

But he can help Louis feel better.

He holds out his hand, letting it hang in the space between them. Louis blinks and looks down at it for a moment. Niall nods and lets all the warm feelings from before come back, makes himself focus on that instead of worrying about Louis.

He thinks about how much Louis has done. Everything he’s accomplished in the past five years and how he’s fought tooth and nail for it. How everything he’s accomplished he’s shared with the boys, made sure to pull them in with him. He focuses on Louis’ voice and how it is so big and bright and sometimes makes Niall want to just stand very still and listen to him, whether it’s because he’s singing or talking. He doesn’t know what he would do if he didn’t have Louis’ voice constantly in his ear.

Niall focuses on how soon they’ll be reaching the five year anniversary of the band. He focuses on how much the boys have come to mean to him, how _proud_ he is of everything they’ve managed to do and how grateful he is to be a part of it with them. He focuses on how good Liam was tonight, how bright and funny and charming. He focuses on how he and Louis kept glancing at each other, wanting to make sure that someone else in the room understood _just_ how good Liam was.

He focuses on how proud he is of Harry for how he’s grown. The way he has taken all of the attention and the biggest spotlight and adjusted how he let people into his life. The way Niall is so thankful that he never thought to change how he let the boys into his life. Niall thinks about how he would be happy to spend an entire one of their shows in the crowd, able to watch Harry pull everyone in like he’s some kind of mad magician.

Niall thinks about Zayn. He thinks about how much he still loves Zayn, even if he won’t answer any messages. He thinks about how Zayn would have smiled if he could see Liam tonight or how he would have tried to save Harry from himself when he told fans to throw whatever they wanted onstage back in Johannesburg. He thinks about how he hopes, more than anything, that Zayn is okay.

Niall focuses on how much he loves them. He doesn’t think of anything except just how much Harry and Liam and Louis and Zayn mean to him. What they will always mean to him. He focuses all of his energy into it. Maybe if he loves them loud enough, Louis will be able to feel it.

Louis puts his hand in Niall’s.

His hand is cool and he slips his fingers between Niall’s. Niall closes his fingers around Louis’ hand. He closes his eyes and thinks back to the night he told Louis about his flashes, the way he felt _good_ for the first time in ages.

Louis tightens his fingers around Niall’s, but sighs and relaxes. “You doing that on purpose?”

His voice is quiet and breathy and grateful. Niall squeezes his fingers back, not saying anything. He doesn’t need to say a word.

Louis shakes his head and presses it back against the wall again. He closes his eyes and Niall watches the way his chest rises and falls. He drags his thumb across Louis’. He wants to fidget, wants to move closer, wants to drag Louis closer to him. He holds Louis’ hand tighter instead.

“Let’s get out of here, yeah?” Niall says softly. “I’ll go tell Payno we’re slipping out.”

Louis shakes his head. “I’m all right,” he says stubbornly. “It’s fine.”

“You saying you really want to go back in there?”

Niall waits and Louis lifts his head off the wall to look at him. “Yes,” he replies firmly. “I have to deal with this. No use running from it, is there?”

“Maybe not. Doesn’t mean you have to deal with it when you don’t need to.”

Louis takes a deep breath and lets go of Niall’s hand, pulling himself to his feet. Niall watches him from the floor. He watches as Louis dusts himself off, keeping a careful eye on the way he moves less casually than he normally would.

Niall stands and dusts himself off as well, keeping his eyes fixed on Louis. He looks unsteady on his feet. Not like he’ll be sick, but like he isn’t sure how to hold himself. He keeps pulling at his waistcoat, at his jacket, fidgeting in place like he can’t be still.

“You don’t have to prove anything to anyone, all right? Let’s just go home.”

Louis holds his gaze, stops his restless movement and just looks at Niall.

“Not trying to prove it to anyone but me, Niall,” Louis replies, not looking away. “If I can’t deal with it now, I might not be able to later.”

Niall wants to stop him. He wants to drag him out the doors and out to the cars. There’s no reason for Louis to put himself through this. No reason for him to make himself face this. Not now.

But Louis’ made his decision. All Niall can do is try to make sure he’s okay.

Louis turns towards the dining hall again. Niall wraps an arm around his shoulders before he can take a step. Louis turns to look at him and Niall raises an eyebrow.

“Niall - “

“Shut up,” he interrupts. “You want to do this? Fine. But you’re a fucking idiot if you think I’m not going to try to help. Better one person than a hundred, right?”

Louis looks at him carefully for a moment. Niall lets him. He isn’t going to budge.

“And you’re all right with that?”

Niall frowns. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Louis raises an eyebrow, the look on his face is one of complete disbelief. “I can feel everything that you’re feeling, Niall. You don’t think that’s a bit invasive?”

“If it was a stranger, maybe,” Niall replies. “And it’s not like I’m giving you free reign or anything. Just, like… if you need it. Whenever.”

Louis stares at him like he’s not sure if Niall means it. Niall doesn’t get what’s so hard to understand. It’s Louis. It’s not like it’s someone he doesn’t know having insight into his head all of a sudden. Whatever he’s feeling, he would probably tell Louis about anyway.

“You sure?” Louis asks carefully.

“Yeah. Course I am.”

Louis is still watching him warily, but he wraps an arm around Niall’s waist. He leads them back into the dining hall, back to their seats, back to the center of the room. Niall keeps his hand tight on Louis’ shoulder while they weave through chairs and people. Niall tries to keep an eye on Louis, make sure he isn’t going to need to leave again.

Niall doesn’t know if Louis’ grip on his waist feels tighter than usual or not. He can’t tell if Louis is clinging harder or if Niall is just hyper focused on him, trying to make sure that he doesn’t need to drag Louis out of the room for his own good.

Before they can make it back to their table, Liam crashes into them. Niall grips Louis’ shoulder tighter to keep them on their feet. Liam steps back, one hand on each of their shoulders and grinning brightly. Niall has to bite his lip from laughing out loud. He doesn’t know how Liam went from polite and professional to clingy and buzzed so fast, but he is definitely well on his way to getting smashed.

“Boys!”

Liam’s smile is huge and drunk and Niall can’t help but smile back. He adjusts his grip on Louis’ shoulder, clumsily smacking against Niall’s arm. Niall glances over at Louis. He isn’t sure how Louis will be in the face of Liam’s alcohol-tinted joy after what happened before.

Louis is smiling up at Liam, though. Not quite as big or open as Liam’s, but just as bright. Niall moves his hands from Louis’ shoulder to the back of his neck.

“All right there, Payno?” Louis asks and Niall can hear the smirk in his voice even though he’s still just smiling.

“Buzzing, mate. I’m _buzzing.”_

“You were great up there,” Niall tells him, keeping a hand on Liam’s waist. It might be to hold him up or to just hold him in place. “You smashed it. Absolutely smashed it.”

Liam smiles at him and steps closer. He hugs Niall and it turns lopsided and strange with Louis squished to their sides. Niall laughs and pats Liam on the back, squeezing the back of Louis’ neck.

“Thanks, Nialler,” Liam says, unconcerned and rocking them both while still clinging to Niall.

Before Niall can step back and tell Liam to go drink some water, Sophia appears at his side. Her eyes look fuzzy, but she is still steady on her feet and her smile is fond.

“You taking him home?” Niall asks over Liam’s shoulder.

“Not yet,” she replies, still smiling. “Going to make him drink some water, though. He and Scott were celebrating.”

Niall laughs and Liam steps back, immediately trying to wrap an arm around Sophia. She grabs his arm before he can, probably seeing just how clumsy he is at the moment, and leads him off. Niall turns to Louis and they both laugh the moment they catch each other’s eye.

They’re still laughing when they make it back to their table. Niall has to let go of Louis to sit down, but as soon as they’re settled he presses close to Louis’ side. The room is warm, now that everyone is moving around, but Niall stays pressed against Louis’ side.

“Hope Payno remembers we’re writing with Jamie tomorrow,” Louis says, turning to talk into his ear like they do onstage. He doesn’t need to, really. It’s not loud enough in the room that he wouldn’t be able to hear Louis.

Louis’ breath on his ear is familiar, though. Niall doesn’t think about turning to answer the same way. He just does.

“Not like you two have never written with hangovers before,” Niall replies with a grin. He knows for a fact that they have.

Louis laughs and leans closer. “It’s no fun if one of us is sober. Can’t even tease him about it this time! He was too great up there.”

“Oh, please. You’ll still give him shit.”

“It won’t be as satisfying, though,” Louis replies and Niall has to laugh. He sounds honestly upset.

Niall doesn’t say much more. He presses up close to Louis’ side and tilts his head, listening while Louis tells him about his baby siblings and the charity match coming up. Even while Niall listens, though, he thinks about the hallway.

He had been so certain that if Harry would just talk to Louis, they’d be able to help each other. That Harry would be able to help Louis with his new ability. Now he isn’t sure. Their abilities are too different. They’re opposites, but the way they affect Harry and Louis is too different.

There has to be something they can do. Something they can do to make sure Louis doesn’t get overwhelmed like that again.

This will have to be enough for now. Sitting close and letting Louis leech on his emotions instead of strangers. It’s no trouble for Niall, even if it’s exhausting to focus on what to feel. It will have to be enough for now.

 

* * *

 

Niall gets the text at two in the morning.

He doesn’t know why he’s still awake. He isn’t usually very good at staying up late. Late night recording sessions or parties are fine, but if there’s no reason for him to be up? He usually isn’t.

Maybe he’s still trying to adjust to time zones. Still trying to acclimate. Or maybe it’s just not being used to his house. Too long away and not used to hearing traffic on the road or the way streetlights and headlights flash through the slats of the blinds.

Maybe it’s because he’s worried about tour and the album and the promo they’ll have to soon and the flashes and the boys.

Whatever the reason, he’s still up when Louis texts.

_you lads still up?_

Niall frowns at his screen. He types out, _don’t you have a match tomorrow,_ pressing send just as a text from Harry appears as well.

_It’s only six here._

_li and i have a song. worked on it w/ jamie._

Niall runs a hand through his hair. It feels like they’ve only just started to work on the album, even though Julian and John have played a few demos for them already. Liam and Louis don’t usually work _this_ quick, though. They’re fast - they’re all fast with songwriting, really. They’ve had to be. But yesterday was the first day they had actually sat down with Jamie.

It feels strange, for them to have a song ready in so short a time. Maybe writing is different when it’s not all done balancing on the knife edge between adrenaline from a show and needing to crawl into bed.

 _you wanna skype then?_ niall types out.

 _if you can,_ louis replies quick.

_gimme 5._

Niall sends the text before turning on the light and reaching for his laptop. He has to squint at the light, fumbling at his computer more out of muscle memory than by sight. He has to squint again at his laptop screen when it turns on.

“Fucking blinding,” he mutters to himself, waiting for everything to load. The call comes as soon as he’s logged in properly.

Liam and Louis are onscreen, looking rumpled and sleepy and bright-eyed. They’re pressed close as they can so they both fit into the frame.

“‘Lo, boys,” Niall says, voice feeling rough.

“Hey, Nialler,” Liam replies with a grin. “All right?”

He shrugs, adjusting his laptop to sit on top of a pillow so he can look at this screen and have his camera in a position that isn’t too weird.

“Be better if I could sleep. Harry joining us anytime soon?”

“Should be - “

“There he is,” Louis interrupts.

A second later, Harry pops up on the screen as well. He’s in a sunny room with his hair pulled up. He grins lazily at them and even though Niall’s had years to get accustomed to such a stark difference between time zones, there is still a second where he needs to blink and remember that Harry’s on the other side of the world.

“Looking lovely tonight, the lot of you. Well-rested and ready for the day.”

Niall rolls his eyes. “Shut up, Harry.”

“Why are you all up so late anyway?”

Niall can only shrug, but Liam says, “Wanted to tweak this song a bit. Lost track of time.”

“Well, let’s hear it, then,” Niall says, aware that he probably sounds more impatient than he really is. He’s never managed well with too little sleep. Usually sleep comes too easily for him to have to worry about not getting enough of it.

Lately, sleep doesn’t come easy at all.

“We’ve got a bit that Jamie recorded,” Liam explains, eyes even brighter and so excited that he can’t sit still, “but Tommo’s had some ideas since then. Added some bits in the chorus. Sounds wicked.”

Niall looks at Louis on the screen, watching the way his mouth twists at the compliment. Louis has always been funny about compliments, even when it’s coming from them.

“Not sure if it’ll fit on the album or not,” Louis says. “It’s not like the stuff Julian or them have shown us so far. Not like any of the stuff we’ve been thinking about either. But...well, I think the fans will like it. So that’s something, at least.”

“Let’s hear it, Lou,” Niall says, digging through the pile on his bedside table to fish out a pair of headphones. He should have gotten them earlier, so there wasn’t an echo for the other boys. He was too tired to think about it.

Liam holds up his phone and Niall can hear Jamie playing an acoustic guitar. They’re talking a bit, nothing that Niall can really make out, and then Jamie starts to sing. He can hear Liam harmonising in the background, but it isn’t prominent. It’s just Liam feeling out the song. Niall tunes it out so he can listen to Jamie, hear what the song is meant to sound like.

He has to listen closely, but it’s good. _Really_ good.

“Lyrics aren’t all there yet,” Liam says over top of the recording and Jamie’s voice. “Still trying to tweak the pre-chorus.”

Niall nods and listens as the Liam on the recording starts singing with Jamie, the half-finished lyrics in falsetto. Both are a little off-key and obviously not completely comfortable with it, but Niall can hear the potential. It segues into the chorus and Jamie hums or sings half phrases.

Louis starts to sing over it. He’s quiet and breathy, not trying to sing at full voice. He isn’t looking at the screen or the camera or Liam. His eyes are fixed on his phone, reading lyrics off the screen. Niall has to strain to hear him over the recording of Jamie, but it’s worth it.

Liam was right. The lyrics aren’t just good. They’re _fantastic._

The recording cuts off with a bout of laughter, but Louis finishes the phrase.

 _“I’ll make this feel like home,”_ he sings and even though he’s trying to be quiet, it feels like the phrase lingers in the quiet of Niall’s room.

Niall swallows, mouth suddenly feeling too dry. He can’t take his eyes off of Louis and wishes he could tell what Louis was looking at. Is he avoiding Niall’s eye or is he still just looking at his phone? The wording isn’t exactly the same, but Niall knows. He knows where Louis got the idea for that line.

No one says anything for a few very long moments. Niall wants to say something. He wants to tell Louis and Liam how good the song already is even though it’s only half-finished. He wants to let Louis know that he realises where this song is coming from. He wants Louis to know that he understands what the song means.

He can’t say a word. Can’t manage to get anything out at all.

“It’s nice,” Harry says, but his voice is serious and thoughtful. “Feels… warm, you know? Comfortable.”

Louis’ mouth twists again, but he’s looking at the screen now. Niall can tell he’s watching them intently even though there’s no way they can have real eye contact like this. Louis nods, but doesn’t say anything to Harry.

“It might not fit the album, but it’s great. Really great, boys,” Niall says, being as serious and sincere as he can manage. “Li, you come up with the falsetto in the pre?”

Liam grins and leans closer to the screen. “You could tell? Thought it would sound great for Harry.”

“He’s right, Haz,” Niall agrees immediately, seeing the way Harry’s forehead starts to wrinkle with concern. “You’d sound fantastic.”

“Thank you,” he replies and his sincerity makes Niall want to bite back a smile. Louis is funny with compliments, but Harry’s never had that problem. He accepts them with a gravity that Niall envies. He’s always so genuinely grateful.

“Lou,” Harry continues, “the chorus sounds really great. You’re right. The fans will love it.”

Louis’ mouth twists again and he clears his throat. “Either of you working on anything yet?”

Niall knows what Louis is trying to do. Harry can accept compliments easily. Gives out thanks as gracefully as is humanly possible. Louis deflects. Especially when it’s about something he really cares about. He deflects and changes the subject and laughs it off as much as he can.

Niall wants to call him on it. He wants to force Louis to accept the compliments, especially right now. They’re more than deserved and Niall wants Louis to know that. But he keeps quiet. Now isn’t the time.

“Got a few ideas,” Niall replies easily. “Plucked out a few melodies. Nothing really concrete yet.”

“Been working on some things, yeah,” Harry replies. “Been trying to get time with Julian to work on one. Maybe John too. It’s a fun one. Quick. Was thinking it would sound good with strings in the back. Some trumpets too, maybe.”

Niall bites his lip so he doesn’t laugh. Remembers the song idea he still has in his phone for something with trumpets.

“Li and I were talking a bit,” Louis starts to say, voice low and looking at Liam for a moment. Niall can tell that he’s being serious.

“Never a good sign,” Niall tries to joke lightly.

Louis rolls his eyes, but doesn’t take the bait. “We need to know something, all right? Before we do anymore writing. It affects all of us, yeah?”

Niall frowns. “You want to have a vote on something?”

Louis sighs and Niall can tell that he’s relieved Niall understands what he was trying to get at. “Yeah. A vote.”

“A vote on what?” Harry asks, his voice low and distorted over the speakers.

Louis’ eyes flash, probably because Harry sounds more than a little suspicious, but he continues like nothing is wrong.

“If we write songs about people leaving,” he says quietly, the muscles in his neck tight, “they’ll make it about Zayn.”

It feels like they all freeze. They’re all still. Louis doesn’t say anything else and for a few moments, it’s just quiet. Harry’s jawline goes soft, the way it always does when he’s trying not to frown. Louis’ mouth is thin and his shoulders look tense even on the grainy, pixelated screen. Liam is looking down and Niall wants to say something. He wants to break the tension somehow.

He feels dizzy and only has enough time to clench his fist before everything blurs. The boys, his laptop, the entire room - they all go fuzzy and when he blinks they’re gone.

He’s on another couch and he’s sitting next to Harry. Harry’s saying something about songs being open to interpretation and Niall wants to laugh. He’s biting his lip to try and keep a straight face, but knows that he’s a moment away from bursting out with laughter.

He blinks again and he’s back in his bedroom, the boys still looking quiet and serious on his laptop screen.

“Jesus Christ,” Niall mutters, rubbing at his face and trying desperately not to laugh. It doesn’t work. It comes out garbled and nervous-sounding, but it’s laughter all the same.

“Niall?” Liam asks, sounding confused.

“Sorry. Christ.” Niall shakes his head, trying to force down the urge to laugh. “A flash. Just had a flash. Sorry.”

He shakes his head again and rubs a hand across his face roughly. The random, sudden urge to laugh is dying, but Niall feels off-balance from it. Like his centre of gravity has shifted.

“Sorry,” he says again.

“Are you okay?” Harry asks and he sounds genuinely concerned.

Niall nods, but he doesn’t feel okay. Not really. It’s not that he isn’t all right, it’s just… weird. It’s weird to suddenly feel like you’ve been spun in a circle and made to feel the complete opposite of how you just felt. Usually when he has a flash, the difference isn’t so stark.

He wonders if this is a bit what it felt like for Louis a few days ago. Or what it feels like for Liam.

“I’m all right. Was just… different. A shock. I’m fine.”

Harry frowns more deeply and Liam has that soft, worried look on his face. Louis is staring at the screen intently, but Niall doesn’t think he looks worried. Not really.

“All right,” Louis says softly. “Back to the vote, then. Do we risk all the attention and questions about him or avoid it as much as we can?”

Niall starts to bite at his thumbnail. He hates that this is something they have to think about - something they have to agree on. But Louis is right. They have to decide now and they have to make the decision together. They can’t leave it up to anyone else.

“We’ve never let the risk of something affect our music before,” Harry says carefully.

“We haven’t,” Louis agrees, “but there hasn’t been as big of a risk before. Shifting our sound isn’t on the same level as this.”

“We’ll get the questions anyway,” Niall says. “Nothing we do or don’t do is going to stop them from coming.”

“Maybe not,” Harry says and he still is speaking in that same careful tone. “I don’t think we should fuel the fire, though.”

Niall frowns and pulls at the corner of his duvet a bitl. “What are you saying, Haz? You want to hold ourselves back when it won’t stop anything?”

“Boys - “ Liam tries to interrupt, but Harry talks over him.

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Say what you mean, then.”

Harry glares and Niall hates that this is happening over Skype. There can never really be actual eye contact over Skype. It makes this even harder.

“There’s a difference between songs that _could_ be about Zayn and songs that _are_ about him. I just don’t know if we should write songs that are really about him.”

Niall shakes his head. “To us, maybe. But to the rest of the world? There won’t be a difference at all. They’ll make any song about him. We shouldn’t say no to a song just because everyone will make it about him. We’ve never let anything like that stop us before.”

“It’s different now,” Harry replies stubbornly.

“Yeah, it is,” Niall snaps back, just as firm, “but if we’re going to keep doing this, we need to do it right.”

Harry doesn’t say anything and Niall wishes he could be angry. But he gets it. He understands why Harry wants to avoid it. The less they give people to work with, the faster it might go away. Niall is already dreading having to talk about Zayn and they’ve already decided to make that as easy as possible. He can’t blame Harry for wanting it to be done with quick when he can barely think about it now.

Niall knows that their best songs are the ones that are most personal, though. They’re the ones that _mean_ something. They can’t shy away from that just because it’s harder now.

“Harry,” Niall says, trying to make his voice softer, “we want the album to be great, yeah? That won’t happen if we keep ourselves from writing a certain way.”

“It’s going to be hard enough,” Harry says quietly. “I just don’t want to make it worse.”

“Niall’s right, though,” Louis interrupts. “I don’t think there’s anything we can do to help it. I’d rather we write honestly and damn it all.”

“That’s easy to say now,” Harry says. He sounds surly, but not upset. Niall is proud of them. Proud that they can talk about this and not have it turn into an argument.

“Maybe,” Louis replies, “but we want to make this album the best we can.”

“Some of our best songs are ones you’ve written, H,” Niall says seriously. “And they haven’t been ones about butterflies and sunshine, either.”

Niall watches as Harry has to fight back a smile.

“Hey,” he protests, drawing the word out, “don’t underestimate me, Niall. I could write an amazing song about sunshine and butterflies.”

“‘Course you could,” Liam replies, sounding utterly sincere.

“I just think we owe it to the fans to try and be honest,” Louis says quietly. “We’re going to have to bend the truth and pretend nothing is wrong enough. The least we can do is be honest with the album.”

Niall looks at Harry. He still looks unsure, but the stubborn clench in his jaw is gone.

“All right,” he says softly. “Honest it is, then.”

Niall watches as Louis relaxes. It happens slowly, but Niall can see the way his shoulders relax and he leans back just a hair. He wonders if the reason Louis wanted to vote in the first place is if he already has a song. Niall wants to say something, wants to ask if that’s the case, but he doesn’t. Louis isn’t one to talk much on songs before they’re finished. Liam will talk Niall’s ears off about half-finished songs until he’s blue in the face, but Louis stays quiet until he’s really sure that he’s got something.

“You lot should sleep,” Harry says. “Got busy days tomorrow, yeah?”

Niall runs a hand through his hair. He still feels exhausted, but he doesn’t think he’ll be able to sleep yet. He still feels too wired. His skin is still too tight and itchy. Looking at Louis and Liam, he knows they must feel the same. He can see it in the way Liam is looking down and has been mostly quiet. He can see it in the way Louis has hardly moved, the way he is forcing himself to be still.

“Don’t think we’ll be sleeping anytime soon, Haz,” he replies softly. “Least, I won’t.”

“Probably _should_ try to sleep,” Louis says, sounding tired and weary, “but don’t think it would go well. Haven’t been able to sleep much lately.”

Niall frowns. He doesn’t want to sound too worried, but he can’t help it. Not when Louis sounds so exhausted and he doesn’t know why.

“Everything okay, Lou?”

Louis shrugs, trying to play it off as casual. Niall can see through it, though. “Hard to fall asleep, is all. Keep getting other people’s feelings every time I try.”

“What, like, you get their emotions even if they’re sleeping?”

Louis reaches up to push his hair out of his face. Niall is watching him carefully so he can see the way he fidgets. It’s smaller than usual, but Niall recognises the nervous motion anyway.

“If they’re dreaming, yeah.”

Niall looks at Liam and Harry. Liam is looking at Louis and even though the camera is shit, Niall can see how worried he is. He can see the way he’s leaning further into Louis’ space, though whether it’s to reassure himself or Louis, Niall isn’t sure. Harry is looking down and if his hair wasn’t pulled back, Niall wouldn’t be able to see his face.

But his hair _is_ pulled back. And Niall can see the way his face is creased with both anger and guilt.

“Hey, Li,” Niall says quietly, “can you do something for me?”

Liam frowns, but nods. “Sure, Nialler.”

Niall looks at Louis, making sure that he isn’t crossing a line. “Just… stick close to Lou, yeah? Let him focus on you instead of everyone else.”

Louis is looking at him intently and Niall is worried for a moment that he did overstep. Maybe Louis was okay with Niall knowing how to help and not the other boys.

“You don’t need to do that,” Louis says softly. “I’ll be fine.”

Niall watches all the boys carefully. Liam is looking at Louis, waiting. Harry is still looking down and Niall knows that they have to fix it. They have to do something to fix whatever went wrong between Harry and Louis. Things can’t stay the way they are.

He can’t do anything about it now. For now he focuses on Louis.

Louis is looking at the screen and Niall relaxes. Louis isn’t upset that Niall said anything. He just doesn’t want to worry them.

“We’ll worry more if you don’t let us help,” Niall says simply. “Just let us do what we can, all right?”

Louis doesn’t reply right away. He looks at Niall and for a moment, all Niall wants to do is smack him. He’s allowed to ask them for help. What’s the use of any of this if they can’t ask each other for help? What’s the point of having come this far if they can’t help each other when they really need it?

“If you lads are all right with it,” he finally says, voice small and quiet.

“‘Course we are, Lou,” Liam says, voice just as small. Niall hates it. He hates how worried they have to be about each other. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

“No reason,” Louis replies, turning to look at Liam and shaking his head. He leans into Liam’s space and tries to grin.

Liam smiles brightly and immediately shoves himself closer to Louis, making himself smaller and pressing up against his side. Louis rolls his eyes and throws an arm around Liam’s shoulders. Liam grins up at him, eyes bright and smile taking up his whole face. Niall watches as Louis relaxes and leans against Liam, their heads tucked close together.

Niall cracks his neck and leans back, readjusting his laptop. “So what have you boys got planned? Anything fun?”

“Not much,” Liam replies. “Mostly just writing sessions for me.”

“Got a few more of those auditions left,” Louis says. “Some parties too. Nothing huge.”

“The auditions are for the imprint, yeah?” Harry asks and Niall is glad that the guilty, angry look is gone.

“Yeah. If nothing falls apart, anyway.”

Niall opens his mouth to reply, already shaking his head. Harry and Liam beat him to it.

“Nothing’s going to fall apart,” Liam says with a frown.

“You’ll make it work,” Harry replies, quieter but just as fierce.

Louis’ mouth twists to try and hide a smile. “Thanks, lads.”

“Don’t need to thank us, Lou,” Niall says. “Stop putting yourself down.”

Louis pushes his hair out of his face, raising his eyebrows. “Well, in that case, thanks for nothing.”

Niall rolls his eyes and makes himself more comfortable. He hadn’t realised how much he missed the boys. He’d seen Liam and Louis a few days ago, but it’s different when it’s all of them.

He tries not to think about how they still don’t have all of them. He tries not to think about how the four of them together are starting to feel normal and less like something is missing. It’s better if he focuses on Harry and Liam and Louis.

“Miss  you, boys,” Niall says easily, feeling more relaxed than he has in days.

They all look at him. He can tell even with the lack of eye contact. They’re looking at him and he feels like he could burst with how much he loves them. He never feels like he has to stop himself from letting them know how much he loves them. They make him feel safe.

He pulls at the edge of his sheet restlessly. He really needs to get some sleep. He’s getting sappy, even for him.

“Can’t stand to be without us, can you,” Louis teases, mouth twisting with a smirk now.

“It’s okay, Niall,” Harry replies, his smirk wider but just as smug as Louis’, “we’re pretty great. I’d miss us too.”

Niall rolls his eyes. “Not gonna miss you anymore if you keep that up.”

“You would, though,” Liam says, smile bright and looking at him knowingly.

He scoffs even though he knows Liam’s right. They’re annoying buggers, but Niall wouldn’t trade them. They’re stuck with him now.

“Hate to cut this short, but I’ve got to go,” Harry says. “I’m meeting some people for dinner.”

“That’s fine,” Niall replies. “We should try and sleep anyway. Especially you, Tommo.”

Louis and Liam both nod, looking far sleepier and relaxed than they did at the start of the call.

“I’ll be fine. Quit worrying over me, Horan.”

“I’ll worry if I like. Good luck tomorrow.”

“Break a leg,” Harry says. “Just not literally. Metaphorically. Broken legs and football don’t mix.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Thanks, Harry,” he says. Niall thinks he’s aiming for sarcasm, but it misses it’s mark. It just comes out sounding genuine.

“Night, boys,” Liam says brightly, “I love you!”

“Love you too,” Niall replies. “G’night.”

They say good night one last time before Niall closes his laptop, not bothering to end the call. He puts it back in its case by the bed and shuts off the light. He settles back down, pulling the blankets up.

He doesn’t feel as anxious anymore. He still can’t quite fall asleep, but he feels like he can rest. That’s better than nothing.

 

* * *

 

Even after only a handful of writing sessions, Niall is starting to truly get excited about the album. He always manages to forget how addictive writing music is. He gets caught up in the rush of touring and performing and the writing always gets overshadowed.

There’s an electricity in performing. It feels raw and explosive and as bright as a supernova. But writing feels just as thrilling. There are times when it’s boring and when it’s sitting around a table trying desperately to come up with _something._ But it builds and builds until Niall feels like every inch of his body is humming and buzzing.

They’ve barely started writing, but even when he’s at home it’s all he can think about. He sits on the couch and keeps plucking out melodies on his guitar, plays with chord progressions and bits and pieces of lyrics. Niall can’t tell if he’s just more excited to write for this album or if it’s been too long since he really had the chance to sit down and write.

He’s sitting on his couch with his guitar when Harry calls. He’s playing the bit of chord progressions he and Jamie worked out a few days ago. It’s simple - something he could have easily played years ago. But he can’t seem to get it out of his head either.

He keeps his guitar on his lap, answering the phone and propping it up on his shoulder. It’s not comfortable, exactly, but he doesn’t want to stop playing. It won’t bother Harry any. The boys are used to his constant playing.

“Hiya, Haz,” he says, picking back up with the same four chords as before. “What’s up?”

“You busy right now?”

“Nah, just sitting around. Playing a bit.”

There’s a pause and Niall can hear the distant sound of birds and traffic. He figures Harry must be by an open window. It’s easy to picture. As much as Niall loves being home for more than a few days at a time, he always manages to forget how cold it gets. It always seems to be warm when they’re touring, no matter where they are. Coming back to relentless rain and grey skies after weeks of nothing but sun always feels like a shock.

“Can I ask you something?”

Niall stops playing, shifting so he can hold the phone. Harry sounds serious, voice quiet over the static of the call. “Sure. What’s on your mind?”

“I was writing today.”

There’s another pause and Niall smirks. “Write anything good?”

“Excuse me, Niall, everything I write is good,” Harry replies, sounding far more like himself.

Niall laughs and adjusts the phone against his shoulder. He starts to play again, softer than before. His fingers fall into a steady, familiar rhythm with “Ready to Run.” Better to not focus on his guitar right now, but he hates not having anything to do with his hands. Some songs are like muscle memory now, though.

“Go on, then. What were you writing?”

“A ballad. Was sitting with Johan. It got me thinking, a bit, though. ‘Bout a few things.”

He pauses again and Niall can’t help but wonder where this is going. Harry never really talks to them about his writing sessions. He’s the one most likely to go off on his own and come back with something, but he never really talks much about what he’s writing. Not like this, anyway.

“Before,” he starts, still sounding stilted and awkward to Niall, “when we talked about the album with the boys. Did you mean what you said?”

“Said a lot of things, Haz. Which bit?”

The line crackles with static as Harry takes a deep breath. Niall keeps playing, letting himself focus on the sound of his guitar and the way his fingers screech along the strings when he moves them instead of the silence hanging between him and Harry.

“Did you really mean it, about my songs being some of our best?”

Niall pauses for a moment with his guitar. He thinks he might have an idea of where this is going now. More of one than before, at least.

“I meant it. Why do you want to know?”

“Just… having an off day, I think,” he replies and Niall can hear how tired he sounds. “This song feels too…”

“Too what, H?” Niall asks. He doesn’t mean to ask so quietly, knows that Harry hates when they treat him too gently, but he can’t help it.

“Too… me,” he says and Niall stops playing his guitar, setting it to the side. “Feel like I’m putting too much of me in it.”

“That’s not a bad thing, Harry,” Niall says and he feels like his voice sounds more normal now, more like himself, even though it’s still quiet.

“I’m not saying it is,” Harry replies, sounding frustrated. Niall doesn’t take offense. He knows Harry is only upset at himself.

“Then say what you mean, yeah?”

The line crackles with static again when Harry sighs. Niall loves Harry. He _does._ But talking to him is like pulling teeth sometimes.

“I can’t imagine singing it,” he explains. “How am I supposed to get up in front of people and sing it when it’s so much of… me? I don’t want people to look at me and wonder how much of it is just… being creative and how much of it is _me.”_

Niall sits up, propping his elbows up on his knees. “You can’t think of it like that. It’s hard, yeah. You’re putting yourself out there and that’s scary. But no one is going to know what it means to you if you don’t say so.”

“That’s not how it feels,” Harry replies. “It feels like if I sing it in front of anyone, let anyone really listen to it, they’ll know.”

“Then don’t put it up for the album,” Niall says. “If it’s too much, you can sell it to someone else.”

Harry doesn’t answer right away and Niall sighs.

“That good of a song, huh?” he asks quietly.

“I think so,” Harry replies quietly. “I mean, we’re not finished yet. But it’s… yeah. It’s good.”

“You realise that I’m not the person you should be asking about this, right? I’ve never written anything for us that felt too personal. Nothing I didn’t want to share, at least.”

Harry doesn’t reply, so Niall keeps going. Because he _isn’t_ the person Harry should be talking to. Niall has never put himself on the line and put himself in the spotlight and sung a song he wrote, knowing that everyone would be wondering how much of it was personal and worrying they would see just how personal it really was.

“You should be talking to Lou, Harry. Or Liam.”

“It isn’t that easy.”

“You’re telling me,” Niall argues. “Can’t be that hard.”

The line crackles and Niall can hear movement on the other end. He wishes that they would have thought to make it a Skype call instead. Niall always forgets how strange it is to not be able to talk to the boys face to face. It’s not often that they need to resort to a phone call. Half the time, Niall’s lucky if he has the other boys’ updated phone numbers. It’s harder, when he can’t see them.

“Doesn’t matter whatever else is going on, you know,” he says quietly. “Neither of ‘em will turn you away if you asked them about this.”

“You don’t get it,” Harry replies, but there’s no frustration in it. He just sounds tired.

“You’re right, I don’t,” Niall says and it sounds harsh even to him. “I don’t get what happened with you and Louis or why you two never managed to get over it. I don’t get it because neither of you ever _let us_ get it.”

Harry doesn’t reply and Niall sighs heavily, leaning back against the couch and slouching down low. He’s just so sick of feeling like they’re alone even when they’re all together. He knows it’s stupid to wish that things could go back to the way they were before, but he can’t help but wish it anyway.

“I get that it’s hard, okay?” Niall says softly. It wasn’t fair of him to snap at Harry. Whatever goes on between Harry and Louis is between them. It might affect him, but it’s none of Niall’s business. Not really.

“It isn’t just that,” Harry replies, voice harder than before but still soft. “If it was just _hard_ , it wouldn’t be as big of a deal, you know? We’d just deal with it. But it’s… it’s complicated. There’s too much there and it just… it never got talked about.”

Niall puts his hand in his hair, pulling at it lightly. His fingers itch to pick up his guitar again, but he needs to focus on Harry. This is important. More important than him wanting to fidget because he hates talking on the phone.

“Easy solution, then,” Niall replies, trying to keep things casual. The conversation may be heavy, but he doesn’t need to make it feel that way. “Just talk it out.”

“That’s not _easy.”_

“Easier than whatever it is you’re doing now.”

“So you want me to, what? Just call Louis up and hope he answers and say, ‘oh, hey, Lou! Remember how we used to be best friends? Yeah, let’s talk about why we’re not anymore!’ Don’t think that’d go well.”

Niall groans and flops sideways on his couch, careful that he doesn’t kick his guitar over. Harry is so fucking _stubborn._ It drives Niall mad.

“Or you could call him up and tell him what you just told me,” Niall replies. “If you start doing more than just playing nice and acting weird half the time, you won’t need to talk about that shit. It won’t matter anymore, yeah? Just have to make something else matter more.”

Harry pauses again, but Niall tries not to let it bother him. He hates talking on the phone, but he’s used to quiet moments in the middle of conversations - especially with Harry. It’s just tough to sit there and listen to the static and the muffled sound of birds when he’s lying on his couch.

“Do you think he’d want that, though?” Harry asks.

Niall frowns and sits up. “What do you mean?”

He can hear Harry take a deep breath. “Do you think Louis would want to fix it? Would he even want to try?”

Niall doesn’t know what to say. He knows that things have been rough between Harry and Louis for a while. He never thought that it might be so bad that one of them question _this._

“Harry,” Niall says and his voice is soft, but he makes sure it’s firm - so there’s no way for Harry to misinterpret him, “doesn’t matter what happened then or since. Louis doesn’t give up on people. Of course he wants to fix it.”

There’s quiet. Niall lies back down on the couch, staring at the reflection of the light in his coffee table. He wonders if maybe they should have done something earlier. If he or Liam or Zayn should have stepped in, tried to figure out how everything fell apart so quickly between Harry and Louis. At the time, it made sense to stay out of it. It made sense to let them keep their distance from each other.

Or maybe they were just too scared to do anything about it. Too scared to interfere and too scared of what might happen if they did. Maybe they just told themselves it made sense to stay out of it.

“You sure?”

“Yes,” Niall says immediately. “I’m positive. Swear.”

Harry only hums in reply and Niall knows he isn’t convinced. Niall sighs and realises that Harry is never going to go to Louis first. He’ll second guess and doubt himself until he talks himself out of it.

Niall’s sat on the sidelines long enough. He can do something to fix this. Or he can move it along so they can fix themselves.

“I should get going,” Harry says, still sounding too quiet.

“Yeah, all right. Have a good day. Night. Whatever it is there.”

Harry laughs and Niall smiles. “Bye, Nialler.”

Niall hangs up the phone and tosses it onto the coffee table. It hits with a clatter and then slides, but stays put. He hates feeling so far away from the boys. If it were any other time, he could just walk down the hall to Harry’s room and sit with him. He could go down and find Louis on the bus if he wasn’t in a hotel for the night.

But they’re not on tour right now. For all the good that comes with having a bit of a break, Niall can’t help but feel lonely. It’s great, being able to meet up with all the friends he never gets to see. He always tries to make the most of his time at home so he can see them all. But not having the boys right down the hall or a short elevator ride away always makes him feel lonely.

He sighs and twists, half hanging off the couch so he can grab at his guitar. He hates playing when he’s lying down usually, but he’s too lazy to move. He’s comfortable and he needs something to do with his hands. He starts playing the melody from before, beginning to whistle a vocal line to it. Testing out different melodies to see how they fit with the guitar.

His head feels like it’s stuffed full. Writing has always helped him relax, so maybe it can help him feel better about everything else too. It feels like they’re falling apart bit by bit. If they can write a strong enough album, maybe they can pull themselves back together again.

It’s naive and stupid and idealistic, but Niall holds onto it anyway. They still have time to fix things. They can get through this. He just needs to figure out the right way. 

 

* * *

 

Louis is vibrant from the moment he walks in the door.

Niall doesn’t know what it is. He doesn’t know if it hits him harder because it’s been so long since he’s really gotten to sit down and write with any of the boys or if it’s something else. Maybe Louis is just that much more magnetic today. Niall feels like he’s stuck to Louis’ side, watching every move he makes.

They don’t get much writing done. Niall plays the bit of guitar he and Jamie came up with for Louis and Julian. They play with a few melodies for some other songs, writing bits and pieces of lyrics, but they don’t end up with anything concrete.

When the session ends a few hours later, though, Niall still feels like it was good.

Niall’s packing up his guitar when Louis throws an arm around his shoulders. Niall glances up at him, shutting the case and standing up straight.

“Let’s have a drink tonight, yeah? Can get a bite to eat too.”

Louis is looking at him carefully, eyes still bright. Niall nods. He isn’t sure he would be able to say no to Louis right now even if he had plans. If Louis wants to spend more time with him, especially with as electric as he’s been today, Niall isn’t going to say no.

“Come on over,” Niall says, leaning into Louis’ side, “I’ll cook something up for us.”

Louis raises an eyebrow, pulling back slightly so Niall can see his smirk.

“Well, then, you better pull out all the stops. I’ll let you know - I am _not_ a cheap date.”

Niall laughs and it feels like it’s ripped out of his throat. “Sure you aren’t,” he manages to say through the laughter.

Louis narrows his eyes and Niall is still laughing.

“I don’t like that sarcasm in your voice, Horan. I’m an excellent date. You wouldn’t know, but I’m offended by the blatant disbelief.”

“Oh, please,” Niall replies, trying to bite back more laughter. “I wouldn’t know? Like we haven’t been on a hundred dates before.”

“If I had taken you on a date, you would know it.”

There’s an actual note of sincere offense in Louis’ voice and Niall can’t help but laugh again. He pats Louis on the back.

“If you say so, Lou.”

Louis still looks at him with narrowed eyes. Niall shakes his head, but before he can move or say a word, Louis pulls out his phone.

“Oi! Julian! Come take a picture of me and Neil for the internet.”

Niall rolls his eyes, but doesn’t reply. Louis hands over his phone to Julian and claps a hand down on Niall’s hat. Niall grins, big and cheesy because he knows that Louis is pulling some kind of face beside him.

Julian hands Louis his phone back and Niall fixes his cap while Louis taps away, posting the photo. Niall hugs Julian, clapping him on the back.

“C’mon, Lou,” Niall says, picking up his guitar and nodding his head to the door.

Louis looks up from his phone and pushes his hair back into place, throwing his arms around Niall’s shoulders again.

“So, what are you going to be cooking me, Nialler?”

“Nothing big,” Niall replies, “don’t have much in my kitchen right now. More food in the way of breakfast than anything else. Reckon if we have breakfast for dinner you can actually help cook for once.”

Louis pulls back, pulling a face of mock offense. Niall raises his eyebrows at him and Louis’ mouth twists. He laughs into his fist, trying to turn it into a cough.

“Suppose I could do the toast and tea,” he says, mouth still twisted up.

There aren’t any fans waiting outside for them and Niall is grateful. It’s nice to be able to leave someplace and not have to worry about calling security. Just being able to walk out to his car and drive himself home feels nice. Normal.

Louis hops into the passenger seat. “Had a car drop me off,” he says, making himself comfortable.

Niall wonders if Louis had planned this all along. If he came to the studio today with the intention of spending the evening with Niall. Niall bites his lip and wonders if something is going on.

He climbs into the driver’s seat and wonders if maybe he should say something tonight. He knows that someone has to try and make Harry and Louis fix things, but he doesn’t know how to do it. He doesn’t know what really happened between them. He doesn’t know what happened, so he doesn’t know how to fix it.

Niall starts the car and Louis fiddles with the radio. Niall keeps trying to tell himself that he can’t fix things. He can’t _make_ anything better. He can’t fix things between Harry and Louis because they’re the only ones that can fix things between them.

Niall can’t help but feel like he should be able to do _something,_ though. He hates having to sit and watch them tiptoe around each other, constantly forcing themselves not to react to each other or making jabs at each other.

He sighs and glances over at Louis. He’s slouched in the seat, scrolling through his phone and head nodding to the music. He’s smiling at his phone, small and pleased. Niall turns back to the road, trying to keep the smile off his own face.

Niall feels like the inside of his chest is too fragile. It feels too soft and warm and it makes him feel like he can’t sit still. He feels like there’s a star inside of his chest, burning and burning and getting ready to burst.

Looking at Louis feels like he’s looking at the sky sometimes. Like he could look forever and ever and still see something new no matter how long he looked.

It’s sappy and Niall feels stupid for even thinking it, but he can’t help it.

When he finally pulls up to his house, he feels more tired than before. He wants to curl up on the sofa and just sit with Louis. He doesn’t want to have to worry about anything. He just wants a night where he can be with his friend and relax.

“All right, Niall?”

He turns and Louis is looking at him with a frown. He’s standing in front of his front door, guitar in one hand and fiddling with his keys in the other.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” he replies, shaking his head and blinking.

“Was it a flash?” Louis asks, still frowning at him.

Niall shakes his head again. “No, no, just thinking,” he replies, unlocking his door and avoiding Louis’ eye.

Niall sets his guitar down by the door and heads for the kitchen. He knows that Louis is still looking at him, worrying over him, but Niall isn’t going to dwell on it. He’s going to focus on Louis and how much fun their writing session was. He wants to be able to focus on the good. He doesn’t want to feel nervous and scared and worried all the time.

“I’ll do eggs and sausage if you do toast and tea,” Niall tells Louis, flipping on the kitchen lights.

“Works for me,” Louis replies, immediately heading for the tea kettle.

Niall gets everything he needs out of the fridge and Louis settles next to him. It’s quiet except for the stove and Niall can feel himself relaxing. Willie has been away on a trip, so it’s just been Niall on his own. He’s so used to being around other people now. If he isn’t on tour, he’s with friends. If he’s not with friends, he’s at home with his family.

It’s harder to relax when he feels like there should be someone else nearby. When they’re on tour, even when he’s alone in his hotel room, he knows that there is someone just down the hall. It’s strange when he knows he’s _really_ alone.

They eat quick at the table and take their tea with them to the living room. Louis slouches in the corner of the sofa, right where it bends into an L-shape. Niall sits down next to him, leaning into Louis’ space. They’re not touching, but Niall feels better just being close enough to touch.

“You want to talk about something,” Niall says simply.

“So do you,” Louis replies without blinking.

Niall nods and for a few moments, they’re both quiet. Niall knows that he should feel worried about what Louis might want to tell him. He knows that he should feel nervous about talking to Louis about Harry.

Maybe when they start talking, the nerves will settle in. Maybe he won’t be able to sit still. But for now, the silence just feels comfortable between them. He’s at home and had a good, easy meal and he’s with Louis.

“I’m worried about Liam,” Louis finally says.

“What about?”

Louis scratches at his chin and pushes his hair out of his face. “I don’t know for sure. He keeps giving me these looks, you know? And he’s doing that thing where he tries to be cheerful.”

“You mean when he acts like everything is fine and he looks like someone ruined Christmas?”

Louis coughs out a half-laugh and nods. “Yeah, that one. But if he isn’t paying attention then… “ He sighs and runs a hand down his thigh. He touches his hair again. Niall doesn’t say anything.

“I keep feeling guilty when I’m with him,” Louis says. He sounds frustrated and confused and Niall can see how upset he is in the way he’s holding himself. Even slouched down in Niall’s couch, Louis’ shoulders are tense and he couldn’t look more uncomfortable.

“It’s him, though. He’s the one really feeling it, I’m just getting… the echo of it.” He looks up at Niall and Niall knows he’s trying not to be hurt by it even though he is. “Why would he feel guilty? He hasn’t done anything wrong.”

Niall’s fingers itch for his phone. He wants to call Liam, make him reassure Louis. He wants to make Liam tell Louis that what Liam is feeling has everything to do with the flashes and nothing to do with Louis.

But he knows Liam. He knows that he doesn’t want to admit just how much he can see in a few seconds, especially not when he feels like he’s seeing something he shouldn’t. He doesn’t want Louis to know what he saw even though he wants to find a way to make it better.

“I don’t think it has to do with you you,” Niall replies carefully. “Think he probably is feeling guilty about his flashes more than anything else.”

Louis frowns, shaking his head in small and jerky movements. “Why would he - “ He cuts himself off and leans his head all the back against the sofa, closing his eyes and mouth going thin. “Fucking hell.”

Niall nods and scratches his knee idly. “Probably feels bad about getting inside our heads, you know?”

Louis shakes his head again, eyes still shut. “He _shouldn’t._ It’s not like he can help it.”

Niall frowns and his fingers freeze against his leg. Louis sounds angry. It doesn’t make sense in context. He isn’t mad at Liam.

“Lou?”

Louis opens his eyes and Niall feels like he can see him deflate.

“Just… all this. The magic, or whatever we want to call it. It’s… “

He trails off, but Niall nods. He can still remember how terrifying and mind-bending it felt when he first started getting the flashes. It felt like the entire world had shifted right under his feet and he was the only one left reeling from it. He can’t imagine how it must be for Louis and Liam. He feels like he’s losing his mind just with how the flashes have started to change. He doesn’t know how he would react if he _just_ woke up with them now.

“Has it been bad? Like at Liam’s thing?”

“No,” Louis replies immediately, shaking his head. “It is more constant now, though. Never quite sure if I’m getting an echo of someone else or if it’s just me. Feels like there’s always someone else there.”

Niall isn’t sure what to say. There’s nothing he can _do._ He can’t help Louis. He can give Liam tips about how to deal with the flashes, even if what they see is so radically different. But there’s nothing he can do to help Louis.

Nothing except just be there and do whatever he needs.

“You know we’re here,” he says softly, “right? Whatever you need, we’ll do it. No questions.”

Louis looks at him. His eyes are still as bright as they were earlier even though neither of them are nearly as happy as they were then. He smiles and Niall can’t help but think it’s smaller than his smiles were a few hours ago. It makes Louis look softer around the edges. It’s less like he’s shining and more like he’s glowing.

“Yeah, I know. Thank you, Nialler.”

Niall makes a face. “Don’t have to thank me. Jesus. Just telling the truth.”

“Well, I’m going to do it anyway,” Louis replies with a smirk.

Niall rolls his eyes and shifts in his seat, stretching out his leg. “Can I say something?”

Louis raises an eyebrow. “Sure. Not like I can stop you.”

“You should call Harry.”

Louis’ face falls. It’s more subtle than Nial was expecting, but it feels dramatic nonetheless. It’s like everything about him suddenly dimmed the littlest bit.

“No, Lou, just listen. All right?”

Niall waits. He needs to get this out. He needs to say something. Niall’s sure that Harry won’t ask Louis for help, that he’ll keep pretending everything is all right. He’s just as sure that he’ll be able to convince Louis to reach out. He just has to get Louis to listen.

Louis clenches his jaw and folds his arms across his chest, but he nods.

“He called the other day,” Niall says. “Told me that he has a song, but he wasn’t sure if he could perform it or not.”

“What’s that got to do with me?”

“Knock it off, Louis,” Niall says harshly. Louis sighs and looks away from him, but doesn’t say anything. “I told him he should talk to you about it, that you would know about songs that felt too personal more than I would. He didn’t think you would want to try and fix things.”

Louis doesn’t look at Niall directly, but it’s only because he catches himself. His head snaps towards Niall, but his eyes are fixed on their mugs of cooling tea. He opens his mouth to say something, every line in his face angry.

He shakes his head and shuts his mouth. He looks angrier than Niall has seen him in ages.

“It’s harder now,” Louis finally says. His voice is low and Niall can hear the way he’s trying to keep it even and calm. “There’s everything else to deal with and I don’t know if I’m feeling what he’s feeling because it’s an echo or if it’s because he’s pushing it.”

“So tell _him_ that,” Niall replies simply. “Ask him not to push.”

Louis shakes his head, eyes still fixed on the table. “It’s not that easy.”

“What? You don’t trust that he won’t?” If they can’t even trust each other anymore, they’re worse off than Niall ever thought.

“Christ, Nialler, _no,”_ Louis replies immediately. “He wouldn’t do it on purpose. He barely ever does it on purpose anyway. But he can’t help it. It just… happens. It’s mostly unconscious. I used to be able to tell if he was doing it. I hate not knowing which it is.”

Niall blinks, watching the way the anger starts to bleed out of Louis as he starts to relax into the sofa again. His arms are still tight against his chest and his mouth is still thin, but he looks calmer now.

“Why does it matter?” he asks softly. “If you know Harry can’t always control it, why does it matter so much how you’re feeling it?”

Louis sighs and Niall hates the way he looks right now - guilty and small and defeated. How did Niall not realise just how bad things were between Harry and Louis? He knew things were rough, but he never imagined that it would be like _this._

“Back when everything… fell apart,” Louis says in the same low, forced calm. Niall can hear the guilt around the edges of his words. “I said things.”

“Lou - “

“I wasn’t kind,” he interrupts, still looking at the coffee table. “I was fucking mean. I was upset and angry and lonely, but I was fucking _cruel._ ”

“Yeah, and I’m sure Harry was the picture of calm,” Niall replies snidely, trying to keep his voice gentle. “Whatever happened was down to both of you, Louis. Don’t try to take it all out on yourself. Fucking stupid, is what it is.”

“What I said was worse, all right?” Louis snaps, finally looking at Niall. Niall isn’t sure how they managed to keep this quiet for so long. How did Harry and Louis go so long without any of them knowing how it all fell apart? “I’m not trying to get sympathy. I was horrible and I know it.”

“So fix it. If it was that bad, make it better. Apologise. Give him the chance to forgive you or not. Show him you want to make up for it or you didn’t mean it.”

Louis sighs and looks down again. He shifts, arms tucking against his belly tighter. He sighs and closes his eyes, chin dropping down to touch his chest.

“All right,” he says softly, just barely louder than a whisper. “All right. Okay.”

Niall watches him for a moment. He looks small, like all the energy has been drained out of him. They needed to do this and Niall knows it, but he still feels guilty. Louis was so vibrant when they were writing and now he looks small and tired tucked into the corner of Niall’s sofa.

He reaches over, tapping Louis gently right in the middle of his chest. He keeps his hand there, the back of his knuckles pressed against Louis’ jumper. He waits for Louis to look at him. It only takes a second.

“There’s nothing you could tell us that we wouldn’t forgive,” Niall says quietly, “not if you were sorry for it.”

Louis doesn’t look away and Niall feels like there are a thousand words hanging between them. Words they can’t or won’t say out loud. Paragraphs and paragraphs of _I’m here for you_ and _I don’t know what I did to deserve you_ and _thank you for always seeing through me._

Niall feels like he has a star inside of his chest again - that it is starting to really burn and that it will go too hot and too bright and turn him to ash.

“We love you,” he says, soft and firm. “We know you would forgive us. We know you wouldn’t give up on us. We aren’t going anywhere.”

It’s words they have all said before in a thousand different ways. They are words that they have always _meant_ , but they carry more weight now. What used to feel like twisting pinkies together and promising to always be there for each other feels like an oath now. Saying it now feels like a vow.

“Getting sappy on me,” Louis mumbles and his voice sounds thick and thin all at once.

“Maybe a little,” Niall replies. “But it’s true. Don’t go crying on me now.”

Louis laughs and it sounds a little weak and watery, but then he looks up at Niall. His eyes are shining and even though his mouth is still thin the way it always gets when he’s worried or unsure, it’s twisting at the corners. He unfolds his arms, moving a hand to cover Niall’s against his chest.

“Thanks, Niall.”

Niall twists his fingers around Louis’. It’s awkward and not proper hand-holding at all, but somehow it’s still comfortable. Louis’ palm is warm and dry against his. It’s quiet and Niall leans back against the sofa.

“How are your flashes?” Louis asks, breaking the quiet. “They still rough for you?”

NIall sighs and shrugs. If he’s honest with himself, he isn’t sure. Is he just getting used to how the flashes are now? Or are they getting better? He can’t tell and he can’t think of a way to figure out which is is

“Nothing too bad,” Niall replies. “Don’t know if it’s getting better or not. I might just be getting used to it.”

Niall hopes that it _is_ getting better. He hopes that the days of feeling like he’s going mad are behind him. He’s still afraid that he’ll wake up and not know if he’s in the middle of a flash or not. He’s still worried about something happening in a flash and it affecting him even once it’s over. But there’s no way for him to know if the reason he hasn’t been as worried lately is if they’re getting better or not.

“We’re a right mess, aren’t we?”

Niall laughs and it sounds bitter and tastes foul in his mouth. “Yeah. Think we really are.”

Louis looks over at him and Niall wants to squirm away from his gaze. He wants to fidget, wants to stand up and walk around, wants to bite on his nails, _something_ to move. Before he can, Louis uses his free hand to tug Niall closer. His right hand is still holding onto Niall’s left, grip going a bit tighter so Niall doesn’t try to pull away.

Louis wraps his left arm around Niall’s shoulders. Niall sighs and shifts, adjusting so his neck won’t ache. Louis is slouched too far into the sofa for Niall to put his head on Louis’ shoulder, but he keeps tugging. He pulls Niall closer until their heads are pressed against each other’s, Niall’s temple pressed against Louis’ hair.

It’s a little strange and more than a little awkward, but Niall can feel himself relaxing. Louis’ hair is soft against his skin and they both have to sit still so they don’t knock their heads together. Niall closes his eyes. Sometimes being so close to someone only makes him feel more jittery. It only makes all the squirming, anxious feelings feel closer to the surface.

Louis always seems aware of that, though. He always seems to know when Niall can’t bear to be touched. Even now, the arm around Niall’s shoulders is loose. If Niall started to move away, he wouldn’t have to fight Louis’ grip. He always seems to know when Niall needs space and when he doesn’t, but he always gives Niall an out anyway.

He doesn’t need to give him one now, though. Niall feels relaxed and comfortable and can’t imagine wanting to move.

“We’re here to help you too, you know,” Louis says quietly. “Just let us know what you need.”

Niall can feel the way Louis’ jaw moves as he talks, they’re heads still pressed together. He can feel Louis’ pulse beating against the back of his hand, thumb pressing into his knuckles firmly.

“Yeah, I know,” Niall says softly, trying to keep as still as he can.

Louis squeezes his hand and leans his head against Niall’s a little more heavily. Niall can feel Louis rubbing his thumb against Niall’s shoulder.

He must still be feeling stupid and sappy. Niall can’t help but think that if they can keep finding moments like this, they might be okay. As long as they can still be soft and quiet with each other, they can handle the noise around them.

It’s probably just the soft feelings getting caught in his throat, but Niall can’t help but tell Louis how he’s feeling.

“I’m glad I’ve got you, Louis,” he says quietly. “You’re the best.”

He can feel it when Louis swallows, muscle in his temple jumping. “Course you’ve got me,” he replies and his voice sounds thick again, “and I’m not the best. That’s always been you.”

Niall only hums in reply. He’s not tired, which is good. If he hadn’t been able to sleep last night, he would probably be falling asleep on Louis right now.

But he actually managed to sleep well last night. So instead of feeling heavy and tired, he just feels warm and comfortable. He’s content to just sit and cuddle with Louis.

 

* * *

 

Liam plasters himself against Niall as soon as he’s through the door. Niall has his guitar in one hand and Liam knocked his hat askew, but he returns the hug with his free hand.

“Missed you, Nialler! It’s been ages.”

Niall laughs, patting Liam on the back while Liam squeezes him tight around the shoulders.

“It’s been, like, a week, Payno.”

Liam steps back, already grinning. “Like I said: it’s been ages!”

Niall rolls his eyes and sets his guitar case down out of the way. “No Julian yet?”

“Nah, he’ll be a bit,” Liam replies. “Running late and he’ll get stuck in traffic.”

Niall crouches down next to his guitar case, popping it open and lifting out his guitar. “We gonna start without him?”

“Might as well try and brainstorm a bit, yeah?”

Liam sits down in the desk chair and Niall sits in the chair that doesn’t have wheels. Chairs that move don’t really work well when he’s trying to play guitar. Liam rolls himself closer to Niall.

“Got anything you want to work out?” Niall asks, making his guitar hasn’t gone out of tune.

“Did have a bit of something,” Liam says, pulling out his phone. “Thought of a couple lines. Like, I was thinking the chorus could be something like ‘when the wolves come out’ and ‘we can run and hide’ - stuff like that.”

Niall strums a few chords, nodding and thinking. “That could be neat, yeah. Could have something in there that sounds a bit like howling? Like, a slide on the guitar maybe.”

Liam’s eyes light up. “Mate, that’d be  _ wicked.  _ It could be part of the melody, even.”

Niall grins and they start playing with some chords on the guitar, seeing what sounds fun and might be cool to sing to. By the time Julian shows up an hour later, Niall and Liam are laughing and playing out melodies that are only half-serious. It’s a constant back and forth of  _ what about this  _ and  _ would this sound better  _ and  _ okay but this would be neat. _

It’s just as fun as the session with Louis was, but they definitely get more done. A song really starts to form around them. Niall starts to get that static feeling in his fingertips. His skin feels like it’s buzzing.

Julian’s phone rings halfway through the session, so they decide to take a bit of a break. Niall keeps strumming his guitar, more for something to do with his hands than anything else. Liam is tapping at his phone when he freezes Niall frowns and then jumps when Liam drops his phone.

“Li?”

Liam blinks and looks at Niall with wide eyes. He looks scared and Niall realises what must have happened. He puts his guitar pick down and reaches out to tap his fingers against Liam’s knee. He doesn’t want to overwhelm him, not if he just had a flash.

“You all right?”

Liam blinks and shakes his head and Niall is afraid he’s going to hyperventilate. “Zayn - “

He cuts himself off and Niall hooks his foot around the bottom of Liam’s chair, pulling him closer until their knees are touching. He moves his hand from Liam’s knee to his arm, gripping tightly. 

“Was just a flash, yeah? You’re all right. It’s okay, Li.”

Niall can’t help but worry. Liam looks like he might cry and Niall doesn’t know what to do. He squeezes Liam’s arm, hoping it’s enough.

“Take your time, okay?”

LIam closes his eyes and reaches out, both hands wrapping around Niall’s right arm. The guitar is still on his lap and he wishes he could put it down, but he’s afraid he’ll hit Liam with it if he tries. He stays still, keeping his hand on Liam’s arm and letting Liam squeeze his. Liam’s holding on tight enough that Liam would have to fight to get free.

He doesn’t move. He waits for Liam to get his breath back. It takes a few minutes, but Liam starts to look more like himself.

“You want to talk about it?” Niall asks quietly, keeping his hand tight and not letting Liam go.

Liam swallows and Niall’s afraid he’ll say no, that he’ll try to deal with it himself. He looks up at Niall and Niall has to swallow at the look on his face. He looks guilty. His entire face is soft and sad and  _ guilty. _

“Was recording for the last album, he says, voice low and rough enough that it makes Niall want to reach for a water bottle straight away. “I… I felt what Zayn was feeling and… he was…”

“It’s all right, Li,” Niall interrupts.

Liam shakes his head and there’s an almost manic glint in his eye. He looks upset and angry and wild. Niall tightens his grip on Liam’s arm, unsure of what is really going on. He’s not sure if he wants to know what is really going on.

“It’s  _ not.  _ It’s not all right at all. He shouldn’t have felt like that! It was like being… trapped or locked in a room. He felt so  _ bad. _ We should have  _ done  _ something - “

“Liam,” Niall says firmly, cutting him off. Liam closes his mouth and looks at Niall, eyes wide.

“Why didn’t we do anything?” Liam asks, sounding more like the seventeen year old Niall met on the X Factor than anything else.

Niall doesn’t know what to say. He isn’t sure if any of them knew just how bad things were for Zayn until it was too late. Maybe Zayn was keeping it to himself or maybe they just didn’t want to see how bad it all was for him. It feels like an excuse to say they didn’t know. He does wish they had done something. It shouldn’t have come to this.

But he doesn’t know what they could have done Niall knows that the schedule and the press weren’t the only reasons Zayn left. He  _ knows  _ that Zayn was never happy with their music. Not really. Not like the rest of them were. But he doesn’t know how they could have changed that. 

He hates not knowing. He feels like he should have some kind of answer. Nothing he comes up with feels good enough.

“I don’t know, Li,” Niall finally says. “I’m not sure if there’s anything we could have done.”

“There had to be  _ something, _ ” he says helplessly.

Niall shrugs. “Maybe there was. But we can’t do anything about it now.”

Liam looks down and Niall wishes there was something he could say. Something more comforting, something to help. Something that might make Liam feel better.

Niall can’t even make  _ himself  _ feel better

“Did we ruin it?” Liam asks, voice hushed and scared. “Did we fuck things up with him for good?”

Niall bites his lip. He thinks of the still unanswered texts and the tiny read receipts. He thinks of how Zayn called minutes before the announcement went live, how it felt like they were the last to know that he finally had enough. Was it because Zayn didn’t want to hurt them and kept putting it off or was it because he didn’t care?

Niall doesn’t want to believe they could lose Zayn for good. He refuses to believe it.

“Think he just needs some time, Payno. Some space.”

They just need time. They need space as much as Zayn does. They  _ can  _ fix it. It doesn’t feel like it right now, maybe, but they can do it. He can’t let himself think otherwise.

He thinks of the texts and how he isn’t sure how he would react even if Zayn responded. He’s still angry and upset. He doesn’t want to be, but he is.

Liam nods and his hands slide off Niall’s arm. Niall loosens his grip and Liam pushes backwards. Niall lets him go even though he wants to hold on, keep Liam as close as he can. 

“Lou’s worried about you, you know,” Niall tells him quietly. “You still feel bad about the flashes?”

Liam shrugs, fidgeting in his seat and making his chair twist back and forth. Niall knows Louis would try to convince Liam he had nothing to feel guilty about, that the next time he sees Liam he would tell him there’s nothing to feel bad about. Niall just isn’t sure if Liam would listen.

“I just… I don’t like knowing something like that. I don’t like knowing so much. It isn’t fair.”

“We aren’t going to be mad at you,” Niall replies “If it bothers you, just talk to us about it. We’ve got enough going on right now. There’s no reason for you to be upset about something we can fix.”

“We can’t fix it, though,” Liam says, frowning. “I can’t stop them from happening.”

“That’s not what I mean by fixing it. I can’t stop mine either. But you don’t need to feel bad about  _ having _ them. That’s what we can do something about.”

Liam doesn’t look convinced. Niall sighs and lays his hands on top of his guitar. 

“Do you blame Louis for being able to feel what you feel?” Niall asks seriously. “Or Harry for making us feel what he feels? Do you blame me for seeing something that might happen and not saying anything about it?”

Liam’s forehead wrinkles up and he shakes his head. “Of course not.”

“Then don’t blame yourself, all right?”

“It just feels weird,” he replies, still sounding unsure. “It feels like I’m spying.”

Niall sighs. He understands. For a long time after he first got the flashes, he wondered if he should tell anyone. It always felt like he was seeing something he shouldn’t. After a while, it started to feel normal and he just stopped worrying about it so much.

That isn’t going to help Liam feel any better, though.

“I get it. I do. But if you keep feeling bad about it, it won’t get better. Let us help you, okay?”

Before Liam can reply, Julian bounces back into the room. “All right, boys, let’s pin this bridge down!”

Niall glances over at Liam while he repositions his guitar on his lap. It takes a few seconds, but the soft and sad look slides off Liam’s face. Liam wears his heart on his sleeve, but he’s always been good at focusing on the job. No matter what else was going on, Liam can focus on the task at hand.

He strums his guitar, playing along to Julian and Liam trying out different phrases and melodies. He’ll join them again soon, but he has to get his focus back. He can’t quite keep his eyes off Liam.

If Niall hadn’t been in the room with him, he would never guess that anything was wrong. Maybe Liam’s a bit less enthusiastic than before, but he’s completely focused on the song. 

  
Niall keeps playing along and can’t help but wonder what this album will sound like. It already feels like they’re putting more of themselves into it than others.

 

* * *

 

Niall has the best friends. 

He isn’t just thinking that because he’s drunk. It’s because they  _ are  _ the best. 

If it weren’t for all these Irish buggers, London may have never felt like home. They never make him feel guilty about hardly ever being around or about how little they ever get to see each other. They always just welcome him back like he hasn’t been gone. 

Usually, when he’s out with the LIC, he ignores his phone. Sometimes he doesn’t even bring it with him at all. Tonight was his first night out with them in ages, though, and he wanted to take pictures. He wanted selfies with them because he’d missed them so much. 

It means that he has his phone out and on hand when it starts ringing. Everything is starting to wind down a bit, so Niall doesn’t feel guilty about answering. Louis wouldn’t be calling for no reason.

“Tommo! How are ya?”

He gets up from the table and heads to the back of the pub. There’s a little alcove there that’s probably for employees, but it’s quieter there. 

“Are you out drinking without me, Nialler?”

Niall grins and leans against the wall, pushing himself into a corner that isn’t covered in posters or flyers or where he’ll be in danger of getting a door in the face.

“Out with the crew,” he replies. “No room for any Yorkshire lads tonight.”

Louis laughs and Niall presses his phone harder against his ear. He closes his his eyes, tuning out the fuzzy radio and laughter from the pub. His head feels a little foggy and he feels warm all over, but none of it is uncomfortable. It’s nice and he feels relaxed. 

“Well, don’t let me interrupt,” Louis says.

“Nah, you’re fine. Probably be heading home soon anyway. What do you wanna talk about?”

“It can wait,” Louis replies and Niall focuses on his voice, trying to think through the fog in his head. 

“C’mon, Lou. It’s fine.”

Niall hears him sigh on the other end of the line. There’s a commotion out in the pub. He can hear loud shouts and the sound of a glass breaking. After a minute, the noise dies down again. Niall turns so the ear he doesn’t have his phone pressed against is angled toward the wall.

When Louis finally speaks, his voice sounds choked. The sound makes Niall sober up straight away, fog clearing from his head.

“Got any tips for dealing with a breakup? I’d ask Liam, but… “

“But he shaved his head and let you pull him around to cheer him up last time,” Niall finishes. “Louis - “

“It’s harder now I’m at home,” Louis interrupts, voice quiet. He sounds upset enough that Niall is tempted to get someone to drive him over now. “Before it was just… not being able to call her. Not having someone to talk to every night. I keep turning around and expecting her to be there. I keep finding something she bought or convinced me I needed and… “

“I’m sorry,” Niall replies softly, not knowing what else he can say.

Louis laughs softly and it sounds bitter and sharp even over the phone.

“Best part of all this is I keep catching myself thinking about Zayn too. What’s the chances, you think? Must have the most shit luck in the world. Lose my girlfriend and my best friend back to fucking back.”

Niall’s throat feels too dry. He swallows and it feels like there’s glass in his throat. He never really thought about how close the two would have felt for Louis. How Louis and Eleanor broke up and a few weeks later Zayn left too.

“I feel like I can’t screw my head on straight,” Louis says quietly. “I hate just sitting here at home and thinking about it.”

“I’m not really the one to ask about break ups,” Niall replies. “But didn’t Liam try a bit of writing after he and Danielle finally proper split? Could try some of that. Write it out, try to figure it all out that way.”

“That would make some pretty shit music.”

“So? Doesn’t need to be good. It’s not for anyone but you. Writing’s been your thing for a while. Just thought it might help, is all. ”

Louis doesn’t say anything and Niall presses his head against the wall. They’re all such a mess. Niall’s too close to it to see just how bad it is and it keeps hitting him over and over again. Little moments to drive home just how hard everything is right now.

“We’ve got you, Lou. You said I could let you know if I need anything, yeah? Same for you. Just let us know what you need and we’ll do it.”

Louis sighs. “Not sure I  _ know _ what I need.”

Niall chews on his lip and shoves his free hand into his pocket. “Want me to come over?”

“Nah, I’m fine. Thanks, lad.”

“You sure? It’s no trouble.”

“Yeah. I’m all right.”

Niall can’t stop chewing on his lip. Louis doesn’t sound all right, no matter what he says. Niall doesn’t want to push, but he doesn’t want Louis sitting at home all on his own. If there’s something Niall could be doing to help, he wants to be doing it.

“Can I ask a favour, then?” Niall asks, trying to keep his voice casual.

“‘Course you can,” Louis replies immediately. “What do you need?”

“Could do with a ride home,” Niall replies, trying to keep his voice even. “Think I’ve had too much to get myself home and I don’t think anyone else is any more sober than me.”

There’s a pause and Niall can only hold his breath. He knows Louis can get prickly when he’s upset. He doesn’t always want to be around people. It’s good for him - he always seems to work through things faster if he talks it out with someone - but he doesn’t always want someone around. If he really wants to be alone, Niall doesn’t want to push it.

He might think Louis needs company, but if Louis wants to be alone then Niall will leave him be. Niall doesn’t think Louis would have called in the first place if he wanted to be alone, though.

Louis laughs and Niall relaxes. “You’re so fucking sneaky, Horan, you know that?”

“I’ve learned a few tricks,” Niall says with a grin. “Had to, didn’t I? To keep up with you lot.”

“Where are you, then?”

Niall tells him and pauses. He can hear laughter from the pub and for a brief second, he wonders if he’s a bad friend. If he’s ditching all his other friends the minute Louis calls. He hopes they understand. It’s not like he wouldn’t do the same if any of them called.

But it feels different. He knows he would drop everything for Laura or Eoghan or any of his friends, but it’s different with Louis. It’s different with all his boys. He isn’t sure if anyone else can really understand that.

“You all right, Niall?”

Niall blinks and the pub blurs. He’s in a studio and the lights are bright and everything is washed in shades of blue. Liam is singing beside him and Niall almost jolts at the familiarity of the song. HIs chest feels like it’s full, like he might burst at the slightest touch. 

The blue lights disappear and he can hear the sound of glass against wood again, the low cacophony of people talking over each other.

“Niall?”

He shakes his head and closes his eyes. “Yeah, sorry. I’m fine. Had a flash.”

“Everything okay?”

Louis sounds worried and Niall hears the slam of a car door on the other side of the phone line.

“Yeah. All good.”

And he is. It was a normal flash. Or, as normal as his flashes ever are. 

“You sure?”

Niall huffs out a breath, smiling and shaking his head. “I’m all right, Lou. Promise. Stop worrying.”

“All right, then, don’t go on about it.” Niall laughs and Louis talks over him. “Be there in a few.”

“See you soon.”

Louis laughs and Niall isn’t sure why. But that’s all right. He learned a long time ago that he doesn’t need to be in on all of Louis’ jokes. He’s just happy Louis seems more like his normal self now.

Niall slips his phone back into his pocket and sighs. He stretches his neck before heading back out to the pub. Louis will probably get there before he’s finished saying goodbye to everyone. They’re all a clingy bunch and it’s been months since he’s had a night out with them. They’ll all want to try and coax another round out of him before he leaves.

That’s all right with him, though. They’re a clingy, rowdy bunch, but they’re his. He doesn’t think Louis will mind too much if he’s still saying his goodbyes. He’s got some friends not so different from Niall’s crew, even if he sees them a bit more often. 

Niall ends up being right. It’s nearly another hour before he manages to get away from the well wishes and back pats and promises of another night out as soon as they can find the time. He turns and Louis is in the doorway, arms folded across his chest and biting back a grin.

“Hey, Lou,” Niall says quietly. Louis falls into step beside him and he’s humming a bit under his breath. Niall leans into his space, shoulders brushing together and Louis glances up at him. His mouth twists and even though he looks tired around the eyes, Niall can’t help but think that he looks brighter than he sounded on the phone. 

“Good night?” Louis asks.

Niall nods, following Louis to his car. “Yeah. Really good.”

They climb into Louis’ car and it’s quiet between them, but not uncomfortable. Louis is humming again and Niall wonders if it’s for a song he’s working on or not. 

He closes his eyes and listens as Louis taps his fingers against the wheel. He must drift off because the next thing he knows, Louis is pushing his hair out of his face. Louis’ hand feels soft against his forehead and he has to blink a few times before he can think straight again.

“Wha’ is it?” Niall slurs sleepily, feeling more tired than drunk now.

“C’mon, lad,” Louis says quietly. “Let’s get you to bed.” 

Niall nods and gets out of the car. He’s up the walkway and in the door before he realises that he’s in Louis’ house and not his own. He doesn’t know what to say. He didn’t expect Louis to actually take him home. Or, not to Louis’ home. He expected to be dropped off in front of his own house.

His head feels foggy again and he just wants to sleep, but he looks at Louis. He can see how tense his shoulders are, how he avoids looking in certain corners. Niall doesn’t say anything, though. There’s nothing he  _ can  _ say.

Louis leads Niall to his bedroom and immediately heads for the closet. Niall steps over clothes and shoes and sits on the edge of the bed and takes off his hat, tossing it onto the bedside table. 

“Here you go,” Louis says, holding out a pair of joggers and a t-shirt. “Figured you don’t want to sleep in your clothes.”

Niall nods and starts to change, too sleepy to bother leaving the room or even to worry about where his clothes fall on the floor. He’ll probably be annoyed in the morning when his shirt is wrinkled, but he’s just so tired all of the sudden.

“Don’t mind the company, do you?”

“Nah,” Louis says, bending over to pick up Niall’s shirt and jeans. “You’re fine. I’ll be in soon, just got to turn off the lights and lock the door.”

Niall nods, lying down and curling up in Louis’ bed. He can hear Louis moving around downstairs and his eyes fall on the chair in the corner. All of Louis’ clothes are strewn about the room, but Niall’s are draped over the chair.

He can’t keep his eyes open anymore, but Niall tells himself to remember that. It feels important, somehow, that Louis laid Niall’s clothes out even while he left his lie on the floor.

The hall light shuts off and Niall falls asleep before Louis closes the bedroom door.


	3. Chapter 3

Niall’s not sure what made him check his phone. He’s spent half the day trying to pack. They’ll be in LA for a solid month, writing and doing interviews and promo and rehearsals for the next leg of tour. Packing for all that is a pain. He doesn’t know why he decided to check his phone, but he wishes he hadn’t.

As soon as he opens Twitter, he has to stop himself from throwing his phone. He can only stare at the screen and clench his jaw. He can feel the anger boiling in his chest and in his belly, burning him from the inside out.

He shoves his phone back in his pocket and clenches his fist. He sighs and it feels like someone pulled the breath out of his lungs and ripped it out of his throat. He yanks his phone out of his pocket and throws it on the bed and goes to the window. He needs to call - someone. Anyone. He has to make sure they can fix this mess.

But he can’t. Not yet.

He wishes Louis knew how to keep his mouth shut. He never knows when to quit until it’s gone too far. We wishes Zayn's friend wasn’t such a prick on Twitter, always trying to antagonise someone and get a rise out of someone. He wishes Louis didn’t make himself such an easy target for that.

Niall wishes Zayn was less stubborn. He wishes that he had more compassion when he was angry so that the first thing he said to any of them in a month wasn’t a nasty comment over Twitter.

Niall stays at the window. He keeps his feet completely still, refusing to move even an inch. If he moves, he’ll go to his phone. He’ll tweet something himself or text Zayn. He’ll do something stupid and there’s already been enough of that.

He closes his eyes and presses his forehead against the glass. He never thought it would get this bad. He thought that maybe they were going to be okay. Maybe if they got Harry and Louis to work things out, things would be really okay. He just thought Zayn was trying to keep his distance. He never expected this.

It was stupid of him. 

He doesn’t know what else he was supposed to think, but he feels dumb for thinking that everything could work out. After what Zayn said at the award show a few weeks ago, Niall thought that things might be okay. Zayn has never been good at holding his tongue with them. If he was upset or angry with them, they always knew. He didn’t try to hide it.

But Zayn never told them just how unhappy he was either. Maybe it’s stupid for Niall to think he knows Zayn at all anymore.

Niall’s chest feels too tight and he keeps his eyes shut. He won’t have a flash right now. He  _ won’t. _

“Fuck,” he chokes out, pushing away from the window to lean against the wall.

He’s crying. Proper crying. Chest heaving, gasping for breath - he’s even noisy about it, choked sounds clawing out of his throat before he can push them down.

He hates this. He hates how all of this feels. It’s not fair. It’s not fair that they’re losing Zayn over this. It’s not fair that Niall has to doubt everything they’ve done. Did Zayn hide  _ just _ how unhappy he was, or were they that bad at seeing it? It’s not fair that it feels like they had to choose between Zayn and their jobs.

It’s not far that even through it all, he still so badly wants to be a band. It’s not fair that he feels guilty for still wanting to be One Direction, even if that doesn’t include Zayn.

Niall tries to breathe deeply. Tries to get his breath back. He needs to do something. He’s on the other side of the world, but he knows that he has to do something. Even if it’s just making a phone call and making sure Louis is okay.

His chest still feels too tight and he can’t quite stop his breath from hitching. He’s afraid if he opens his eyes, it’s not his bedroom that he’s going to see. 

It takes a few minutes, but he finally feels like he can breathe again. He opens his eyes and the bedroom doesn’t blur. The tight feeling around his chest stays, but he takes a deep breath and goes back to the bed. He sits on the edge, pulling his phone out from between the folds of the duvet and a shirt.

He calls Louis first. He isn’t surprised when he doesn’t answer. He tries Liam next, but it goes straight to voicemail. He runs a hand through his hair roughly. Next time he sees them he’s going to smash their phones. What’s the use of them if no one answers them anyway?   


Harry picks up. 

“Hey, Niall,” he greets, voice cheery and bright. “All right?”

“Not really,” Niall replies quickly. He sounds exactly like he was just crying. “Need you to do something for me.”

“Of course.” 

“I need you to go check on Louis.”

Harry doesn’t reply and the silence makes Niall feel anxious and jittery. He knows the exact look on Harry’s face even though he’s on the other side of the world. He can see the frown as clearly as if he were there. 

Liam’s phone must be off, so he is probably okay. He won’t know anything is wrong. But Louis would have seen it. 

“What’s happened?”

Niall sighs, the breath stuttering out of him. He leans forward, propping his arms on his legs and letting his head hang down.

“He got in a Twitter fight with Zayn’s friend again.”

“Niall, I’m not - “

“Zayn tweeted,” Niall cuts him off. “He was mad.”

There’s a long pause, but Niall knows he doesn’t have to say anything else. They know how Zayn gets when he’s angry. They know how he acts and they know how much it hurts even if they know he doesn’t mean it. 

Niall just doesn’t know if he meant this or not.

He wishes he wasn’t on the other side of the world right now. If they were back home, he could drive over to Louis’ house. He could be there in five minutes and the boys could be there in twenty. If they were on tour, he could just go down the hall or down to the bus. It would be so  _ easy. _

But Niall is in London and they’re all in LA. He’s too far away to do anything.

“You think he’ll even let me in?” Harry asks skeptically.

“I don’t give a damn if he  _ lets  _ you in, Harry,” Niall snaps. He sighs and shakes his head, rubbing a hand over his face. “Sorry. I’m sorry, I’m just… worried and upset and… “

“I’ll keep you on the line,” Harry says softly, “yeah?”

Niall tugs at his hair. He hates how far away he is. He  _ hates  _ it.

“Thanks.” 

“What happened exactly?”

Niall presses the phone harder against his ear, rubbing his fingers against the back of his neck. 

“They got into it again over something stupid,” Niall says, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice. “Zayn went after Louis.”

Harry doesn’t answer and Niall can hear him moving. It’s nothing distinct. It’s just the muffled sound of Harry walking. He focuses on the sound and he feels himself calm the slightest bit. He’s too far away to do anything, but Harry’s doing something.

“Is he at yours or did they get a hotel?” Niall asks, feeling exhausted.

“They’re here,” Harry replies. “I think Lou wanted a hotel, but Liam wanted to stay here.”

Harry sounds annoyed and Niall doesn’t know what to do about it. Niall could tell Harry that Louis’ reluctance doesn’t have to do with him, but Harry would never believe him. 

Maybe Niall would be lying. But after talking to Louis, he thinks he understands better now. He thinks that Louis not wanting to stay with Harry and in Harry’s space has more to do with  _ Louis  _ and less to do with Harry.

Before Niall can figure out what to say, he hears Harry knocking on a door.

“Lou? You in there?”

Niall bites his lip and listens. Niall knows now how bad things got between Harry and Louis and how much it still affects them both. He knows how stubborn they both are and how they would avoid addressing it for as long as they could.

Niall doesn’t know what he can do to help them. He’s afraid that if he pushes too hard, he’ll only make things worse. He can’t force them to work things out.

“Not really in the mood to talk, Harry,” Louis says. Niall thinks his voice sounds far away, but it’s still clear even over the muffled phone line

“Let me in anyway?” Harry asks, voice soft. Niall can hear a hard edge to it, though. The stubborn  _ I’m not leaving until you open the door _ . He knows Louis will be able to hear it too. 

“It’s open,” Louis calls back, voice softer than before.

Niall can hear Harry moving again and hates not being able to see anything. He has to listen to the silence and not know what Louis looks like. If Niall could  _ see  _ him, he would have a better idea of how to talk to him. He would know if he was angry or if he was upset. He would know what to do - or have an idea of it, at least.

“You come to gloat, then?” Louis asks sharply, voice closer and clearer than before. “Tell me I’ve got what I deserved?”

“Of course not,” Harry replies and Niall can hear how offended he is. He grips his leg tighter. Louis’ going to pick a fight. He’s going to push until Harry doesn’t want to stay anymore.

“Sorry,” Louis murmurs. Niall almost doesn’t hear him and he isn’t sure if it’s because he’s so surprised or if Louis was just speaking too softly. “I know you wouldn’t. That was shitty.”

Harry doesn’t reply. Niall can’t help but wonder if he is as surprised as Niall. He was sure he knew what Louis was trying to do. He feels dizzy and off-balance.

“Niall’s on the phone,” Harry finally says. “He’s worried about you.”

Louis doesn’t say anything and Niall can feel his heart racing. He hates how far away he is. He hates being able to hear them and not being able to do anything.

“You don’t have to stay,” Louis says. “I’ll call him. You can go back to… whatever. I’m fine.”

“Are you?” Harry asks, his voice pitched low enough that the phone almost doesn’t pick him up. Niall wonders if he’s holding it still or if he set it down somewhere. Does Louis know he’s listening to them? Does he know Niall’s still on the phone?

“Of course I’m not,” Louis scoffs, “but you don’t want to be here and you couldn't help even if you did.”

“What makes you think I don’t want to be here?” His voice isn’t quite as sharp and offended as before, but it’s not as soft either.

“Why  _ would _ you want to be here?” Louis asks incredulously. 

“You’re my friend,” Harry says, his voice quiet and leaving no room for argument. “I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“We haven’t been friends in a long time,” Louis snaps. “You’re here because you feel like you have to be.”

Niall clenches his fist and feels his jaw lock even though he wants to stay relaxed. He can hear the argument building, can hear the current under their voices sparking. He wants to say something, stop it from going any further.

He doesn’t know what he could say that might stop it.

“You can feel what I feel,” Harry says firmly. “Am I really here because I have to be?”

Neither of them say anything and Niall is afraid it will set Louis off. He can still hear the matter-of-fact way Louis admitted that he was cruel to Harry. Niall doesn’t know what he said, but he knows it had to do with Harry’s ability. He knows that it can’t be easy for them to confront and Niall is afraid he’ll let his anger get the best of him.

Niall’s surprised again.

“I’m sorry,” Louis says softly.

“For what?”

“You were right. I should have told you about it first. Owed you that much, at least.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” Harry replies, voice sharp. “I  _ wasn’t  _ right, I was angry. That’s not the same. It was your choice to make.”

“I still should have said something.”

Harry doesn’t say anything and Niall chews on his lip. Harry and Louis are both  _ so  _ stubborn. He expected them to fight their way through every conversation that might have a chance to fix things. 

He didn’t think to consider how much they both wanted to fix it, even if they couldn’t admit it to each other.

“I want to stay,” Harry says softly. “If you’ll let me, I want to stay for a while.”

“You can’t do anything,” Louis repeats. “Why - “

“It’s not about  _ doing _ something. You just shouldn’t be alone.”

“I’m not going to reply, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I know,” Harry says softly. “Even if you’re mad at him, you wouldn’t want everyone else to know.”

“Why should I bother?” Louis asks quietly and his voice is dripping with bitterness. “He obviously doesn’t give a fuck if the whole world knows - “

He cuts himself off and Niall pulls his legs up onto the bed. He feels stiff all over, his shoulders and neck aching. He wishes he was there with them. He wishes they could all be there, sitting on the guest bed in Harry’s house.

“You could leave an angry voicemail,” Harry says and Niall can hear the grin in his voice. It makes him want to relax. Everything could be falling apart around them, but Harry still wouldn’t be able to joke without a smug grin plastered on his face.

There’s a pause. Niall knows that it isn’t a pause to worry about, but he feels nervous and jittery anyway. 

“Bit risky, innit?” Louis asks, playing along even though his voice sounds rough around the edges. “Would be just my luck to call to leave a message and that’s the time he picks up.”

“An email, then,” Harry replies right away, the smug grin even more prominent in his voice now. “A strongly worded text.”

Louis laughs and it’s small, but it’s still a laugh. It feels like a miraculous thing - Louis laughing at Harry, especially when he is still upset and angry. 

“Think I’ve probably said enough, if I’m honest,” Louis finally says. “Not much left to say, is there?”

“Lou - “

“I mean, if he doesn’t… I can’t really do much if he doesn’t want me there. He’ll ignore it or tell me to fuck off.”

“Just give it some time. It’s Zayn. He gets furious about everything if you give him the chance. He won’t be so mad this time next week.”

There’s a pause and it feels like the conversation is all stops and starts. It feels like driving for the first time, not knowing how to use the brakes and constantly getting thrown back against the seat. Every time it feels like there’s some momentum, some ground to stand on, it all rushes to a stop again.

“It just feels like we’ll never be able to fix it. It feels different than fighting in the bus did. If he doesn’t care about saying shit on Twitter where the whole world can see - “

“He just needs time,” Harry repeats. 

Louis sighs and it’s loud enough that Niall can hear it. “Maybe.”

“Louis - “

“I know,” he interrupts. “I know, all right? You’re probably right. It just… it fucking  _ hurts.  _ It never hurt this much before.”

Niall scratches his chin and tries to resist the urge to bite his fingernails. They’re too short as it is and if he keeps biting at them, he’ll make himself bleed. 

“Sometimes giving it time only makes things worse.”

Niall freezes. Louis’ voice is quiet, but there’s something dark in his tone. Something that makes his muscles tense and makes him want to grip his leg.

“You think this will be like that?” Harry asks, and his voice is so low that Niall can hardly hear him. He feels like he’s eavesdropping, like this is a conversation he’s not meant to be hearing. 

Louis doesn’t say anything. It feels like Niall is missing half of the conversation. Did Louis shrug? Did he nod? Are they sitting next to each other or are they on opposite sides of the room? 

“It feels like the longer we go without hearing anything, the more it’s like it’ll never get fixed,” Louis says, voice still quiet and dark. “The more space we give him, the farther he wants to get away from us.”

Niall feels sick to his stomach. He wants Louis to be wrong. He wants to feel like they can fix things with Zayn.

But Louis’ right. Niall doesn’t know anymore if Zayn will let them fix anything.

“It might be like that now,” Harry replies, just as quiet. “Doesn’t mean it’ll always be.”

“How can you be so calm about this?” 

“I’m not,” Harry says and Niall has to stop himself from scoffing. “Not really. It just… there’s nothing we can do right now. Not for Zayn, at least. We have to look out for ourselves.”

“That’s bullshit,” Louis says, but there’s no heat behind it.

“Yeah,” Harry says breathily, like he’s laughing at himself. “It is bullshit. But we have to do it anyway.”

They’re both quiet and Niall bites his lip. Harry’s right. They can’t do anything about Zayn. He’s made his choice and for now, that doesn’t involve them. They have to put themselves first right now. They have to look out for each other and figure out what’s best for them.

Knowing that it’s a decision they have to make doesn’t make it any easier. Knowing that Zayn doesn’t want to be near them right now doesn’t make it hurt any less.

“You said Niall called, yeah?” Louis asks and Niall knows he’s trying to avoid talking about it anymore.

“Still on the phone, probably,” Harry replies. “Unless he hung up.”

Niall hears the sound of shuffling and then Louis’ voice, right in his ear. “You there, Nialler?”

“Yeah,” Niall says, voice sounding rough and like it’s being dragged through gravel. “How you doing, Lou?”

Louis sighs and Niall pulls his legs closer, careful of his knee. “I’m all right, mostly,” Louis says. 

“You want me to leave?” Niall hears Harry ask, sounding muffled.

“Go hunt down Liam?” Louis suggests. “Then we’ll have a proper phone call.”

“Yeah, all right,” Harry replies. “Be back soon, then.”

Louis is quiet and Niall stretches his legs out. He still feels like he’s full of nervous energy. The thought of having to get on a plane in a few hours makes him want to scream. 

“You going to try and tell me everything will work out, too?” Louis asks.

“Do you want me to?”

Louis sighs and Niall closes his eyes. “Not really, no,” Louis replies. “I just…”

“What?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course you can,” Niall says, wrapping his free arm around his middle. 

“You have to be honest,” Louis says seriously. “No coddling or bullshit, all right?”

“Okay.”

“Is it my fault?” Louis asks and his voice sounds smaller than Niall has ever heard it. 

“Is what - “

“He left because of the music, right?” Louis continues, voice still small and quiet. “Never said as much, but we all know it. He wants to do his own thing, so he left.”

“That’s got nothing to do with you, though.”

“Doesn’t it?” Louis asks. “Liam and I were the ones in there writing it all. You know if Zayn had been in there instead of me, the music wouldn’t have sounded anything like it does. I’m the one that kept going in and kept pushing. If I hadn’t pushed so much - “

“Louis,” Niall interrupts, his voice sharp. “Shut up.”

Louis doesn’t reply, but Niall knows it hasn’t stopped anything. He hates how broken they all are. He hates how much this hurt them and how it keeps hurting them. 

“If you hadn’t been in there pushing, we wouldn’t be where we are,” Niall says seriously. “You and Li don’t have anything to feel guilty about. It’s not your fault, all right? We never would have been able to do the music Zayn wants to do. Liam could, maybe. If he wanted to. But you and me? Harry? It never would have worked.”

“I know,” Louis replies. “I know that. I do. It just… “

“Yeah,” Niall says softly. Louis knows, but it still hurts. He knows, but he still has to question.

Niall understands.

“Still… he probably blames me, though.”

Niall sighs and lets his head hang down. He’s curled in on himself, legs pulled up awkwardly and an arm around his middle and hunched over. He just wants to lie down. He wants to lie down and sleep and be in LA with the boys so they can all curl up together.

They haven’t done that in years. Not all of them at once. Niall misses it, the way they’d all be on top of each other and he would have elbows in his ribs and a knee on his hip. It always hurt, but it was good anyway. 

“Maybe,” Niall replies quietly. “Doesn’t mean he’s right. Doesn’t mean he always will.” 

Louis is quiet and Niall itches to  _ do  _ something. Maybe Zayn left because of the music. Maybe he decided he had to leave so he could make something that was more  _ him.  _ Even if that was reason, it’s not Louis’ fault.

It makes Niall feel sick. He hates knowing that Zayn doesn’t love their music as much as the rest of them, that he  _ never _ loved it as much. He hates not being able to share something that is so important to him with someone that is just as important to him. He hates knowing that it may have been enough to make Zayn leave the band.

He hates that the thing that broke them was  _ creative differences.  _ It feels like a terrible tabloid headline and he hates that it’s true - even if it’s only a half-truth.

Niall hates that he wouldn’t change it. He hates that he wouldn’t give any of this up if he could. He’s too proud of what they have managed to do and how they’ve grown together. He wouldn’t want to change that. Not for anything.

Not even for Zayn.

His chest burns and his stomach flips. It feels like a betrayal even though it’s a choice they already made.

He wants to hate Zayn for making them choose. It isn’t fair. It’s not fair that they had to make that choice.

It wouldn’t be fair of him to hate Zayn for it. But it hurts anyway.

“I wouldn’t change it,” Niall murmurs. The words burn the back of his throat, but this is something he thinks he needs to say out loud. “Our music’s good, Lou. You’ve done good. We all have. I’m proud of us. I wouldn’t want to change it.”

“Me neither,” Louis says and he sounds quiet and more upset than before. “No wonder he told me to fuck off, eh? Pretty shit move, putting work over my best friend.”

“Then he should be telling us all to fuck off,” Niall snaps. “Not like you were the only one to make that choice.”

Niall knows that it was different. He knows that Louis and Zayn were their own unit, their own team. But Niall isn’t wrong. Zayn can’t blame Louis for something they all chose. 

Louis is quiet and Niall sighs. This would all be easier if Louis was mad at Zayn. It’s what Niall expected when he first read the tweet. He expected to be met with an angry and sharp Louis.

Niall’s never really known what to do with a sad Louis.

“Think Harry finally found Liam,” Louis says and a second later, Niall can hear them crashing into the room.

“Lou - “

“Don’t, Li,” Louis says sharply, sounding far too tired. “Don’t need a lecture or you trying to fix things, all right?”

There’s a long stretch of quiet and Niall bites his lip. 

“What do you need, then?” Liam finally asks and Niall lets out a breath. 

He can hear Louis chuckle. It’s small and tinted with bitterness, but Niall can hear that he’s relaxed a bit.

“Could do with a cuddle,” he replies. 

Niall can hear the muffled sound of Liam and Louis shuffling about. He thinks Louis might have dropped the phone into the blankets because for a moment, everything sounds distorted and like he’s listening through a seashell. 

It goes clear again and he hears Louis say, “You too, Harold.”

“Who’s on the phone?” Liam asks. “Is it Niall?”

“Yeah, ‘course it is. You’re on speaker, Nialler.”

“‘Lo, Liam,” Niall says.

“When are you getting in?”

“Early tomorrow. Miss me already?”

“It’s been ages, of course I miss you.”

Niall wants to tease Liam. It’s what they would normally do. Tease him and say two weeks isn’t  _ actually  _ that long. 

But he’s missed them too. So he doesn’t tease like they normally would.

“I demand a band cuddle as soon as I land,” Niall tells them seriously. “Not fair, having one without me.”

“But you’re in the future, Niall,” Harry says in the way Niall knows he thinks he’s being hilarious. “Can’t cuddle you when you’re so many hours in the future.”

“Don’t care, Harry, I’m getting a cuddle.”

“No need to beg,” Louis says. “Not like any of us are going to turn you down.”

Niall doesn’t think that’s strictly true anymore. Or maybe he just can’t imagine actually getting them all in one spot long enough to cuddle. Not when they don’t have other things they needed to be doing.

“Should probably get back to packing,” Niall says with a sigh, glancing over at his suitcase. The idea of getting on a plane for 12 hours makes him want to crawl into bed and not come out.

“You want one of us to pick you up tomorrow?” Louis asks. He doesn’t sound as agitated or upset anymore, but it doesn’t make Niall feel any better.

“Nah, gotta pick up a rental anyway.”

“You sure you wanna drive after a flight?” Liam asks, frowning. “I’m always so knackered I can barely think.”

Niall tugs at his hair idly, hunching over and suddenly needing to  _ move. _ He can’t sit still anymore. 

“I’ll be all right, Li. Text you when I land, yeah?”

“You better, otherwise we won’t know when to get ready for your cuddle.”

“Let us know if you’re too tired to drive, all right?”

“Bye, Nialler,” Louis says over Harry and Liam. “Have a safe flight, all right?”

“Bye, Lou,” Niall says. “Bye, boys. See you soon.”

There’s another chorus of goodbyes and Niall hangs up the phone. He closes his eyes and rubs his hands over his face. He just wants to crawl into bed and not come out, but he wants to walk out the door and just roam for hours too. He doesn’t want to leave his room and can’t bear being inside anymore all at once.

He stands and goes to his suitcase. He can’t stay in bed and he can’t leave. He can busy himself with packing, though.

Niall isn’t stupid enough to think it will help the anxious feeling in his chest. But he doesn’t know what could help it right now. So he just has to deal with it. He still has loads to pack and he doesn’t have much longer to do it.

He can’t stand the idea of getting on a plane in a few hours. The idea of being confined for 12 hours when he already feels so jittery makes him want to run away. He doesn’t know how he’ll make it through.

He folds a t-shirt and puts it in his suitcase. The boys will be on the other side. He’ll just have to think of that to get through the flight.

 

* * *

 

Niall can hear Liam and Louis laughing outside. He’s upstairs in his guest room while they all take a break from writing and going through what songs are done and which ones still need work. Liam and Louis went outside to smoke and Harry disappeared into the kitchen.

Niall retreated upstairs. He still feels jittery and out of sorts from Zayn’s tweet and the long flight.

He just wants to know where they stand. They’ve had nothing but radio silence for weeks until three days ago. Niall just wants to know where they really stand.

He sits on the edge of the bed and stares at his phone. He doesn’t know if any of the other boys have tried to call Zayn or not. He doesn’t think they have, but he’s not sure if he would say anything himself if he tried to call and Zayn didn’t answer. 

Niall’s probably mad for even considering calling Zayn right now. There’s no way he’ll answer. Even if he leaves a voicemail, there’s no way he’ll ever get a response.

But Niall can’t just sit around. He has to do something. Even if  _ something _ is just calling and leaving a voicemail. 

He can hear crashes from the garden and Louis’ delighted, crowing laughter. They’re definitely up to something. If Niall wasn’t so worried about Louis, it would probably make him smile. But Louis’ been going out so much. Usually, by now, his jaunts to clubs would have started to slow down. He isn’t slowing down, though. He’s just going out more and more. 

Niall’s afraid that he won’t stop until he crashes and burns. He’s afraid of having to pick up the pieces. He isn’t sure if he will be able to help Louis if he falls apart. 

Niall stands and goes into the bathroom. He shuts the door, blocking out the sound of Liam and Louis in the garden. He sits on the edge of the bath, balancing on it instead of sitting on the closed toilet. Maybe if he has to focus on balancing, he won’t want to fidget quite as much.

He stares at his phone for another long moment. Before he can talk himself out of it, he presses the call button next to Zayn’s name.

There’s a long pause and Niall’s afraid he changed his number. Then it starts to ring and Niall closes his eyes, waiting for it to take him to voicemail.

Zayn picks up on the third ring.

“Hey,” he says, voice low and sleepy.

Niall blinks. He wasn’t expecting Zayn to answer. He doesn’t know what to say. He’s not sure if he was ready to actually talk to Zayn. 

“Niall? You there?”

“Yeah,” Niall says and it feels like his voice is stuck in his throat. “Didn’t expect you to answer, if I’m honest.”

Zayn doesn’t reply and the bathroom is so quiet it feels like it’s pressing against him. The air feels heavy and too still and sticky against his skin. 

“I texted. Thought you might have lost your phone again or something.”

“Nah, just… you know.”

Niall bites his lip. He  _ doesn’t _ know. He has no idea why Zayn hasn’t replied or why he picked up the phone. Zayn just sounds relaxed. Like nothing is wrong or weird with what is happening. He sounds completely at ease while it feels hard for Niall to even catch his breath.

“I don’t know, actually,” Niall says tiredly. “Don’t know why you shouted at Lou on Twitter instead of just texting either.”

“He had it coming,” Zayn replies. It’s not quite a snap, but there’s more fire in his voice than before. 

“Didn’t see ya shouting at Shahid to mind his business, though. He’s as much to blame as Lou.”

Niall hears movement on the other end of the phone and he sighs, rubbing his free hand over his face. He doesn’t want to fight with Zayn. He’s angry, but he doesn’t have to make this into a fight. He can keep this from turning into a fight.

“Are you feeling better, at least?”

There’s a long pause and Niall doesn’t know what he’ll do if Zayn says no. Zayn feeling better would be the one good thing to come out of this mess.

“Yeah,” Zayn says softly. “Can’t go anywhere without the paps following, but I can relax a bit. It’s nice, not havin’ a schedule or anything.”

Niall hums, but he doesn’t know what to say. He’s relieved that Zayn feels better. He didn’t know what to think when Zayn wouldn’t reply to them. He hoped that everything was okay, but he didn’t  _ know. _ He’s relieved that Zayn is okay. 

It doesn’t make trying to talk to him any easier. He doesn’t know what to do. Can he talk to Zayn about band stuff now? Can he talk to him about the boys? Would Zayn believe him if he told him about the flashes?

He doesn’t know. He feels like Zayn is an entirely new person and Niall has to relearn how to be around him. He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to talk to Zayn anymore.

“You doing all right?”

Niall digs his toes into the plush bath mat. He doesn’t know how he’s meant to answer. He’d be lying if he said he was okay. But what else can he say? Can he tell Zayn how awful it feels? How one minute he can’t breathe because he feels like he’ll turn around and expect Zayn to be there, but then something will happen in the next and it’s like he’s never felt so elated? 

“Miss you,” Niall settles on. Anything else feels like he would be crossing a line. He’s lucky Zayn picked up the phone at all. He won’t jeopardise that.

It’s quiet for a long moment and Niall knows it’s because Zayn doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know how to respond to Niall. Niall wants to tell him it’s okay - he wants them to talk like they used to. Or, at least, come close to it.

“Would it be weird to tell you about the shows?” Niall asks, interrupting the silence. He says it before he can think better of it.

Zayn doesn’t answer and Niall shakes his head. He digs his feet into the green, fluffy mat even more. He wants to root himself to the floor. He feels off-balance even though he’s perfectly perched on the edge of the bath.

“Forget it. Sorry. Stupid question.”

“‘S’not stupid,” Zayn murmurs. “Just… not right now? I wanna hear, like, eventually. Just… not yet, yeah?”

Niall closes his eyes. It shouldn’t hurt as much as it does. Zayn’s just asking for time. It isn’t surprising and Niall knows that it’s understandable. It isn’t too much to ask.

But it  _ hurts. _

Niall wants to tell Zayn about the signs in Cape Town, about all the people outside the venue. He wants to tell Zayn about singing his solo in Dubai. He wants to be able to share it all with Zayn even if he isn’t onstage sharing it with them.

“Yeah,” Niall replies, hating how small his voice sounds. “Yeah, all right.”

“Ni - “

“It’s fine,” Niall interrupts. “I mean, I’m upset and shit, but that’s on me. Shouldn’t have expected different.”

Zayn is quiet again, but it makes Niall feel jumpy. Quiet with Zayn always used to be comfortable. It was sitting together backstage or in a green room and just sharing space. It was sitting behind Croke and looking up at the sky. It was feeling safe and warm without having to say anything at all.

Now it feels like he’s looking at Zayn from very far away. The quiet feels like something gaping wide between them, keeping them apart. It feels solid and empty instead of soft and warm.

“Miss you too, y’know,” Zayn finally says. “It’s just hard.”

Niall swallows. He opens his eyes and stares at the tiles for a long moment. He doesn’t know what to say. He thought talking to Zayn would help. That even just leaving a voicemail would help him figure out where they stand with each other now.

It isn’t helping at all. The longer they talk, the more Niall realises just how different things are. He still wants Zayn to be a part of his life. He wants to believe that Zayn still wants him to be a part of his. He just doesn’t know where he fits into Zayn’s life anymore. 

His chest goes tight and he blinks, trying to force himself to breathe deeply. The tiled floor fades away in a blur. He’s onstage and they’re in an arena, the sound ricocheting off the walls and the ceiling. He’s right next to Harry and Liam and Louis. He and Louis have their arms wrapped around each other. The lights are bright and the crowd is deafening. His chest feels full and he holds on tight to Louis, afraid he might cry.

He blinks and he’s back in Harry’s bathroom. The green and blue tiles shine up at him.

“I should probably go,” Niall mumbles. “Have to get back to work.”

“All righ’, then,” Zayn replies.

“Can I - “ Niall cuts himself off. He doesn’t want to fight with Zayn. But he doesn’t know how to say what he needs to say without making it a fight.

“Yeah?”

“If you wanna get into it with one of us,” Niall starts, keeping his voice even and low, “can we keep it off Twitter, at least?”

“Niall - “

“I’m serious,” Niall repeats firmly. “I’m not accusing you of anything. I’ll tell Lou the same damn thing. Just think we owe it to each other to do that much, at least. If we’ve got something to say, we can keep it off the internet.”

“Not fair to ask me that when he started it,” Zayn replies, sounding surly.

It’s the first time the conversation has felt familiar to Niall. He’s used to Zayn being surly.

“I don’t care if it’s fair,” he replies, still keeping his voice even. “Lou isn’t going to say shit anymore. We both know that much.”

Zayn doesn’t reply and Niall knows he’s angry. Maybe it isn’t fair of him, but it isn’t fair on any of them if every disagreement is front-page news. All of this is hard enough. They don’t need to make it harder.

“Zayn,” Niall says softly, “please? I know what I’m asking. I  _ know. _ ”

“Fine,” Zayn says, sighing. “I won’t fight with Louis on Twitter. Happy?”

Niall doesn’t know what to say. He knows Zayn is mad at him for asking. He probably deserves it. But they’re going to be answering enough questions about Zayn for the next few months. He doesn’t want to have to answer even more.

“Thank you,” Niall says quietly. 

“Talk to ya’ later, yeah?” Zayn says, sounding sleepy instead of surly. 

“Yeah,” Niall replies. His throat feels too thick. He isn’t sure if that means Zayn will actually reply to his texts now. He doesn’t know if that means he can call Zayn again.

“Bye, Niall.”

The line clicks and Niall swallows the lump in his throat. He stays on the edge of the bath for another moment. As soon as his screen lights back up, he sees there are about 30 notifications. 

He should ignore them. He should go find one of the boys and tell them about the phone call. Harry, probably. He feels too big for his skin.

He opens his notifications anyway. 

He knows why Liam and Louis were laughing now. It’s because they were fucking with his car. They’ve covered it with shit they found in the garden. He’s pretty sure they roped Harry into it too because there’s a lemon on the hood in one of the pictures. 

Normally, he’d probably be at least a little annoyed. He would have laughed, but he would have been annoyed as well.

Now, he just laughs. He laughs and laughs and the jittery feeling under his skin starts to settle. He almost falls off the side of the bath and shakes his head, typing out a response on Twitter. He’ll head downstairs in a minute and give them hell. But for now, he’ll smile at his phone and at his idiot bandmates.

 

* * *

 

Niall wakes up to Louis shouting his name and then jumping on top of him.

Louis is grinning at him, big and bright and ecstatic. Niall can only blink at him and try to clear the fog out of his head. 

“Th’ fuck ya’ doin’, Lou?”

His sleepy grumble only makes Louis grin wider. “You’ve got to see this, lad, it’s incredible.”

Niall blinks up at him. He can’t move with Louis on top of him. Not even to shove him off. Louis is lying on top of him and keeping Niall’s arms trapped under the blankets.

Louis isn’t stupid. He’s doing it on purpose. If Niall had an arm free, Louis would be on the floor.

“Wha’ time’s it?”

“The sun is up, Nialler! The day is wasting away! Besides, you have to see this!”

Niall manages to twist an arm so he can elbow Louis in the ribs. He grunts and falls to the side. Niall twists free from the sheets before Louis can try to trap him again. He turns on his side and shoves his face into his pillow, trying to breathe evenly so his heart will stop pounding against his chest. 

“Louis, I was  _ sleeping.” _

“Yes, yes, your beauty sleep is very important. Have to look cute for the masses. But you really want to see this. Just _look.”_

Niall turns so he can look at Louis with one eye. He’s holding his phone out to Niall and looks like he’s going to burst with excitement. Niall rubs his face and sits up, taking Louis’ phone and shoving him in the shoulder.

Louis grins and rubs at it, acting like Niall punched him. He leans in close, reading over Niall’s shoulder.

Niall scrolls down Louis’ Twitter feed slowly, not quite sure what he’s looking at. His mouth is dry and his eyes feel bleary and itchy. He sees tweets from fans, all using the same hashtag. He just doesn’t know what it means.

“What is this?” 

“It’s incredible,” Louis says right away. He sounds excited, like he can’t contain himself. “The fans - they’re doing something with ‘No Control.’ Getting all sorts of radio stations to play it.”

“What, seriously?”

Louis nods, mouth twisting up and eyes bright. Niall scrolls further. Niall’s used to being amazed at things the fans manage to do. They all have the tendency to get weepy and sentimental over it when they aren’t being chased around. 

This feels different. Even as sleepy and bleary as he still feels, this feels  _ bigger _ .

“Why are they doing it?”

Louis shrugs and presses close against Niall’s side. “Dunno. Guess they finally heard we weren’t going to release another single from the album? So they just decided to do it themselves.”

Niall glances over at Louis and he’s looking at his phone in awe. He takes it back, still holding it where Niall can see. He scrolls carefully and Niall watches him instead. His face is lit up, eyes bright and not even trying to hide his smile.

“This is  _ sick,”  _ Louis murmurs. “Have you ever seen anything like this?”

Niall shakes his head. He feels like he’s curled around Louis even though they’re just sitting next to each other. His head still feels fuzzy and it doesn’t feel like it’s really hit him, what’s happening. 

At the moment, all Niall can focus on is Louis. He’s vibrant like he was when they wrote together a few weeks ago. The sun is shining through the curtains and Louis is glowing. 

“How’d we get this fucking lucky?” Louis asks softly in complete disbelief. “I mean, we should have crashed and burned ages ago.”

“Shut up,” Niall says lightly. He shoves his shoulder again. He hates when Louis gets self-deprecating. 

“I’m not being, like, morbid. Just, like… can you believe these people are still following us? I keep expecting them to fuck off.”

“Yeah, that’s not morbid at all.” 

“I don’t mean it like that, though,” Louis replies softly. “It’s just… we’ve changed a lot, you know? We’re not anything like the band we were in the beginning. It’s just weird that we still have the same fans, yeah? All these people that tweeted about our dumb pop songs are trying to get  _ No Control _ on the radio.”

“Oi, I like those dumb pop songs,” Niall says. Louis laughs and Niall smirks. “What d’ya think the parents are saying? Hearing their young girls singing sex innuendos?”

Louis laughs, throwing his head back and turning away from Niall for a moment. He grins and Louis covers his mouth, eyes glittering when he turns back. 

“What do you think the radio hosts are saying?” Louis replies. “Half of ‘em probably don’t know anything of ours except 'Story of My Life' or ‘What Makes You Beautiful’ and they’re suddenly being attacked with fans shouting about ‘No Control.’”

Niall laughs and lies back down against his pillows. Louis leans back against the headboard and Niall shifts so he can lean his head against Louis’ side. 

“Played on Radio 1 earlier,” Louis says, scrolling through his phone. “Breakfast Show played it. Nick Grimshaw brought on a fan to talk about it. So did Scott Mills.”

“Jesus Christ,” Niall murmurs, looking at Louis’ phone while he scrolls. “They’re not wasting any time, are they?”

Louis hums and keeps scrolling. Niall leans against him and he feels warm and content. Louis’ jumper is soft against his cheek and he feels more awake now. 

He forgets, sometimes, that they still can have moments like this. He’s been so worried about Louis that he forgot how good it felt to be around him. To lie next to him and just be. He wonders if Louis has been able to feel how out of sorts he’s been since calling Zayn. 

He didn’t tell the boys about the phone call, but he thinks that Louis might have figured it out anyway. He’s been tiptoeing around all the boys since he got off the phone with Zayn. Harry and Liam might not have noticed anything wrong, but Louis has. 

Niall doesn’t know if Louis has figured out that he called Zayn or if he just knows that something is wrong. But Louis’ been looking at him lately with that quiet, careful look in his eye. It’s the same look Louis gets whenever Niall’s sick or when before his surgery, when his knee would act up all the time.

It’s hard to remember that things can be easy when it feels like everything is going wrong. 

“Y’all right, lad?” Louis asks softly.

Niall blinks and looks up at Louis, tilting his head back so he can look him in the eye. Niall realises that Louis must have been getting the echoes of what he was feeling.

“Yeah,” he says softly. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“You’ve been avoiding us. You sure everything’s all right?”

Niall turns his head back to face Louis’ phone again. “Yeah. Just… need to get my head straight about some things. Need some time to myself is all.”

Louis shifts and twists his arm so he can wrap his hand around Niall’s arm. Niall is lying on top of Louis’ arm so it’s a little awkward and not quite comfortable, but he relaxes at the touch anyway. He wants to shift so he can hold Louis’ hand, but he doesn’t move. He’s comfortable enough like this.

“Are you all right, Lou?”

“Who, me?” 

“Don’t joke,” Niall says. “I mean it. You’ve been going out a lot. More than usual. It’s not like you.”

Louis hums and he tightens his grip on Niall’s arm for a second. Niall knows that there is something not right about Louis’ partying. He’s always enjoyed a night out, but he’s never gone out as much before. 

“Dunno,” Louis murmurs, “keep hoping if I’m around loads of people it’ll make the whole… emotion thing easier. Like I’ll get used to it more.”

Niall bites his lip, pressing his head against Louis’ side. There’s more to it than that. He knows Louis isn’t saying something. But he won’t push it. 

“Just look out for yourself, yeah? Take care of yourself and the like.”

Louis chuckles and Niall can feel the vibrations against his cheek. “Yeah, ‘course.”

“I’m going back to sleep now,” Niall grumbles, because he knows it will make Louis laugh and because he’s comfortable and warm. 

Louis does laugh. “Gonna trap me here with you, then?”

“You’re the one that woke me up,” Niall replies, pressing his face into Louis’ jumper. “Consequences and shit.”

“Talking an awful lot for someone going to sleep, aren’t ya?”

Niall rolls his eyes even though Louis can’t see his face. He pokes Louis in the ribs and closes his eyes. Louis squirms for a moment, but he settles and Niall’s head rises and falls with every breath he takes. 

He wonders how long Louis will let him stay like this. He wonders if Louis will wiggle free as soon as he’s asleep again or if he’ll stay and scroll through his phone some more. He hopes Louis stays. He always feels like he sleeps better when he’s not alone. 

“Not goin’ anywhere, Nialler,” Louis mumbles. “Might take a bit of a nap too.”

Niall closes his eyes and presses his face against Louis’ jumper. Louis is rubbing his thumb against his arm and he falls asleep while the sunlight is fading in and out around them.

 

* * *

 

Niall feels nervous and dizzy. He isn’t sure if the reason his head is spinning is from nerves or because he’s about to have a flash. He shouldn’t feel so nervous. It  _ shouldn’t _ be because of nerves. They’ll be talking to  _ James.  _ Everyone here wants to make this as easy for them as they can.

Niall still feels like he’s going to be ill. They’ve known this interview was coming for ages. They’ve known that they’ll have to talk about Zayn. They have to say  _ something.  _

Now that it’s actually time to do it, Niall feels like his skin is crawling. He’s sitting very still and trying not to think too hard. If he lets himself worry anymore than he already is, he’ll have to find a bathroom because he might actually be sick. 

He tries to focus on the boys. If he feels ill because of a flash, it will help him avoid actually having one. Even if it’s just from nerves, maybe he’ll feel better if he focuses on something else.

Harry’s talking to Ben in the corner, arms folded across his chest and smirking. Liam and Louis are standing by the table with drinks and water bottles talking to some of the other producers. He keeps his eyes fixed on Louis and Liam. He follows every gesture carefully, the way Liam reaches out to touch Louis’ shoulder and laugh and the way Louis talks with his hands. 

If he focuses hard enough on them, maybe he can ignore how badly he wants a moment to himself. Maybe he can ignore how much he feels like he needs to get away from everyone in the room and from the audience waiting for them and the cameras that will be fixed on him and recording every nervous twitch he makes.

Louis stops mid-conversation to catch Niall’s eye. He’s frowning and Niall knows that he got an echo of Niall’s nerves. Louis turns back to the conversation, saying something to Liam in a low voice. Liam nods and shakes hands with the producers before sitting down next to Niall. 

“Y’all right, Niall?”

Niall shrugs, avoiding Liam’s eye. Liam has his arm draped over the back of the couch and Niall wishes he could be as casual right now. He doesn’t know how the other boys are managing it. 

“Just nervous,” he mutters, not wanting to be overheard. 

Liam inches closer, his forearm brushing against Niall’s shoulder. “I know it’s going to be hard, but at least it’s with James, right?”

Niall sighs and props his arm up on the arm of the sofa. He starts pulling at a piece of hair so he has something to do with his hands. 

“I know. I’m still so fucking  _ nervous _ , though. What are we going to fucking say? He’s gonna have to ask about the Twitter thing. I just don’t want to do it. I don’t want everyone looking at me when we talk about him.” He takes a shaky breath and buries his fingers deeper in his hair. “I’m all nerves, they’ll see right through me, Payno.”

Liam doesn’t say anything. He drops his arm across Niall’s shoulders, elbow hooked around his neck and pulling him in close. Niall sighs and tries to sit still. His skin feels tight and hot and itchy and he wants to be able to settle under Liam’s arm.

He can’t. He wants to get up and move. He wants to walk out of the room and get some fresh air even though the show is due to start in less than a half hour. He wants to pace back and forth, try to get out the nervous energy.

“All right, then, lads, all right,” Louis says loudly. “We know what to do, give us a few minutes to breathe before the show, all right?”

Niall watches the way Louis claps people on the shoulders and shakes their hands while ushering them out of the room. They all smile and laugh with him, like he isn’t kicking them out of the room. They leave without a fuss.

The room is quiet for several moments and Niall takes a deep breath. Now that the room isn’t full, he feels so much better. His skin still feels hot and itchy, but he doesn’t feel like he’s going to run out of the room or be sick.

“Better, Nialler?” Louis asks, sitting on the armchair next to the sofa. 

Niall takes another deep breath before he nods. He still isn’t sure if he feels so sick from nerves or if he’s going to have a flash. 

“Yeah,” he mutters, “thanks.”

None of them say anything and Harry drifts over to them, perching on the arm of the sofa beside Liam. Niall can hear people outside in the hallway, muffled through the door. The quiet in the room feels like it is weighing him down. He feels heavy and the last thing he wants to do is go out in front of an audience and in front of cameras. 

He wants to go home. He doesn’t want to be here, not even if it’s James’ show. He wants to go back to Harry’s house and crawl under the covers. He wants to go home to his own bed and sofa and kitchen. He wants to go back home to Mullingar.

Louis kicks out his foot, tapping the toe of Niall’s shoe with his own. “Let’s plan out what we’re gonna say, yeah? Already pretty much know what James’ll ask. Nothing wrong with a little planning.”

Niall looks up at him. He knows that Louis is only offering it for him. They already know what they’re going to say. As far as the band goes, they’re all on the same page now. They have to answer questions about Zayn if they want to keep going. They have to answer the questions because the fans need to hear  _ something.  _ It won’t be the last time they’ll have to answer questions about Zayn, but if they say something now they might be able to push the rest back. 

They need more time. This is the only thing they can do to buy more time with the endless tabloid spreads and questions around every corner. 

Niall still doesn’t want to go out there.

“Already know what we’re gonna say, Tommo,” Niall says simply. “That’s not the problem.”

Louis looks at him and even though he doesn’t say anything, Niall feels like he is. He doesn’t know why the other boys are so calm when he’s so nervous. It makes him feel stupid. Like he’s upset for no reason. If the other boys aren’t nervous about going out there, then why is he?

“No,” Louis says firmly. “Stop that, all right? Don’t know why you’re feeling that, but  _ stop.” _

Niall holds his gaze for a long moment. Louis is looking at him with narrowed eyes. If Niall didn’t know any better, he would say Louis is angry at him. He does know better. Louis isn’t angry at Niall, he’s angry that Niall feels like shit.

“Don’t know why I’m so nervous when you lot are fine,” Niall says. 

“We’re not fine, Niall,” Louis says, waving a hand. “Liam woke me up at six this morning because he was working himself into a panic over it. Been getting echoes of Harry feeling like he has to run around the building a few times because he’s so keyed up. I slept for about two hours last night. We’re just as nervous, lad, all right? You’re not the only one.”

Niall looks a Louis carefully. He doesn’t think that Louis would lie to him to make him feel better. But he knows that there isn’t anything Louis hates more than someone feeling terrible when he can do something to help. He turns to look at Liam and Harry. He half-expects them to be upset Louis said anything. He expects Harry to be upset, at the very least.

They just look at him softly. 

“You think we can actually do this, then?” Niall asks quietly. He starts off by looking at Liam and Harry, but by the time he’s finished the question he has turned back to Louis. Lately, all he seems to be able to do is turn to Louis.

The corner of Louis’ mouth twitches and Niall knows he doesn’t want to go out there and talk about Zayn either. The way his mouth goes thin and he doesn’t have words right away is all Niall needs to hear.

“We can do it,” Harry says firmly. “We  _ can.” _

Niall turns to him and feels like he’s been cut loose. He feels like he’s falling and doesn’t have anything to slow himself down. 

“How?”

Harry looks at him seriously and Niall remembers how a few weeks ago, Harry didn’t want to say a word about Zayn. He remembers how Harry wanted to avoid the whole thing. He wonders what changed. How he went from not wanting to say a word to feeling like they can actually go through with it.

“Just have to make it quick, yeah? Don’t act like it’s as big as it is. Answer it like we would any other question.”

“Don’t think it’s that easy, Haz,” Niall says softly, biting his lip. It’s exactly what every publicist and producer has been telling them for weeks. Niall just knows it won’t be that easy. 

“We can make it that easy,” Harry replies. “We answer the same way enough times, eventually they won’t ask anymore. We answer as short and simple as we can. We keep it up, they’ll stop bothering us about it so much.”

Niall still doesn’t think it’ll be that easy. He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to talk about Zayn like he isn’t important, like his leaving the band wasn’t the most earth-shattering thing to happen to them. 

Liam’s arms tightens around his shoulders. “Just leave it to us, Nialler, yeah? We can take care of it tonight.”

Niall looks over at him and he wants to say no. He wants to tell Liam that he doesn’t need to be protected. He wants to tell him that he shouldn’t have to answer for all of them. 

He can’t make his mouth work.

“I’m serious,” Liam continues. “I can answer questions about him tonight. At least most of them.”

“Li - “ Niall starts, throat feeling tight and dry.

Liam just looks at him earnestly. Niall doesn’t want him to do this. He knows that it won’t fix anything. It won’t make it any easier the next time. Liam can’t always be the one to answer the hard questions. 

Niall doesn’t have the words to talk about Zayn with the boys. He doesn’t know how he’s meant to talk to the rest of the world when he can’t even talk to the three people that would best understand him. 

“There’s no reason for you boys to do it if you don’t think you can. I know I can do it. Let me answer tonight, all right?”

Niall blinks and turns to Louis. He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know if Liam’s offering because he doesn’t want them to hurt or if it’s because he really believes he can do it. Louis has his eyes fixed on Liam. He’s looking at Liam carefully, the same way he looked at Niall earlier.

After a moment, he sits back and glances at Niall. He doesn’t look worried, but it doesn’t make Niall feel any better. As much as he wants to tell Liam yes, he doesn’t think it’s a good idea. He knows how Liam gets about looking after people. 

“You really sure about this, Payno?”

“Think the better question is do you think you can do it instead?” Harry asks quietly. 

“I’m not going to throw Liam under the bus if he feels as fucked about going out there to answer questions as the rest of us feel, am I?” 

It’s less sharp than Niall would expect from Louis, but Harry still flinches. It’s small and more a look of offense than anything else, but Niall can’t help but glance between them nervously.

“You’re not throwing me under anything,” Liam replies. “I swear. I’m done panicking about it. Probably won’t be the best answer I’ve ever given, but I can do it.”

Louis bites his lip. “All right, then,” he says cautiously. 

Niall keeps his eyes on Louis. They both know that Louis won’t get away unscathed. He’ll be asked about what happened on Twitter. Niall wants to be able to take the question from him. He wants to be able to answer it so that Louis doesn’t have to the same way Liam is doing for them. 

He can’t do that. But he can make it easier to answer.

“I called him,” Niall says softly. “Zayn.”

He can feel all of their eyes on him. He keeps his eyes on Louis. He doesn’t look surprised and Niall supposed it can’t have been that hard to figure out. Not if Louis got echoes off of him afterwards.

“Few days ago,” he continues. “Expected to get voicemail or summat, but…”

“What’d he say?” Liam asks, desperately trying to hide how excited he sounds.

Niall shrugs. “Not much. It was… weird. Felt proper weird. Says he feels better. Asked him to keep off Twitter, least when it comes to us. He said all right.”

The boys are quiet and Niall turns back to Louis. He’s looking at Niall so carefully and he’s so guarded with his expression, Niall can’t tell what he’s thinking. 

“Just like that?” Louis asks, voice tight. Niall can hear the way he’s holding back.

“Wasn’t happy ‘bout it, if that’s what you mean,” Niall replies. 

“But he said okay anyway,” Harry replies. “Because you asked.”

“Don’t know if that’s why. But he said he’d lay off.”

There’s a knock on the door and Harry gets up to answer it. Niall ignores him and turns to Liam. He has a heavy feeling in his stomach that this isn’t what is supposed to happen. They shouldn’t let Liam take this bullet for them. Niall just doesn’t know how to stop it from happening. 

“How are you so sure about this?” 

“Don’t know, really,” he replies easily. “Just… it’s got to be done, yeah? It won’t bother me to talk about him. Not like it will for you or Louis. I think… I don’t know. Been having more of those… what do you call them? Flashes?”

“Yeah,” Niall says, voice sounding choked. 

“Had more of them and I just… I want to get it, you know? What he was thinking. I want to understand.”

Niall doesn’t know what’s left to understand. He left. He left because it was all too much and he didn’t love what they were doing like the rest of them do. He doesn’t know what’s left to understand except how to come to terms with that.

Harry closes the door and even though it should be a soft sound, it feels like it echoes through the room. “They need to shoot some promo stuff. Giving us ten,” he tells them.

It’s quiet as Harry sits back on the arm of the couch. Niall still feels nervous and too big for his skin, but Liam’s arm is wrapped around his shoulders. Louis is across from him and looking small and still in the way he only does when he’s most nervous. Harry is holding himself tighter, making himself look smaller.

He blinks and the room blurs. He’s in a hotel room and his foot hurts. He feels dizzy and off-balance. He feels like even if he had context for where he was, it wouldn’t make sense. He feels almost like he did after he had his knee surgery. Is his foot hurt so bad that he needed painkillers?

His phone is pressed against his ear, but he didn’t realise until he hears Zayn’s voice.

“Y’all right, babe? Sound funny.”

A laugh bubbles up in Niall’s throat and the hotel room goes foggy, light feeling in his head fades as quickly as they came. He expects to be looking at the boys in the green room again once his vision clears.

He isn’t in the green room.

He blinks and he’s in another hotel room, bigger this time and his head clearer. Harry and Louis are standing across from each other. They have red faces and are screaming at each other, Liam between them and trying to shove them apart. Everything feels tight in Niall’s chest and it’s everything he’s most scared of seeing happen.

He blinks again and he’s at home. Everything is arranged a little different, but it’s his living room nonetheless. Zayn is sitting on the couch and Niall just feels comfortable - like everything is going to be okay.

He’s back in the green room and he immediately stands up. He needs air. He has to get out. He needs to move, to walk around, to do  _ something. _

Someone catches his elbow. 

“Niall,” Louis says. His fingers are holding Niall in place, but his grip is loose. If Niall wanted to, he could pull his arm away and still leave like he wanted to. 

He doesn’t move. 

He thought that the dreams in Dubai were a one-time thing. An anomaly - something he didn’t need to worry about anymore. He’s never had flashes back to back like that before.

“I - “

“I know,” Louis interrupts. “Flashes, right?”

Niall nods and closes his eyes. He doesn’t know how to explain what’s happening. Louis doesn’t say anything else. He doesn’t move. He keeps his hand where it is, completely still and warm. He feels a hand on his knee and knows it’s Liam without having to look. He hears the couch creak and Harry’s footsteps. 

“Can I help?” Harry asks softly. 

Niall lets out a shaky breath. “Could do with a hug,” he mutters. 

Harry’s arms are wrapped around him before he can take another breath. He keeps his eyes shut and turns, pressing his face into Harry’s shirt. He starts to feel less jumpy and more settled, but it’s like he can still feel it under his skin. He feels nervous, but also excited. He feels like he needs to  _ move _ , but it’s less anxious. It’s like something electric under his skin and he realises he’s getting Harry’s emotions. 

“You doing that on purpose?” Niall asks, voice muffled against Harry’s shoulder.

Harry stiffens, but Niall wraps his arms around his waist and holds on tight. “No. Sorry. You okay? Do I need - “

“It’s all right,” Niall murmurs. It’s not like before. He knows it’s not what he’s feeling even though it helps him relax. He can differentiate now. It makes all the difference.

“I’ll talk to Ben and James before we start, yeah? He can split up whatever questions he’s got, direct them to us so we don’t have to worry  about what to answer.”

Niall swallows and nods, head bumping against Harry’s neck. 

“Don’t worry about the flashes either, all right?” Louis says quietly. He dropped his hand when Harry started hugging Niall, but now Niall can feel his hand settle against his shoulder. “We’ve got you.”

Niall doesn’t reply. He doesn’t know how to tell Louis that there’s no way for him to  _ not  _ worry about his flashes anymore. He doesn’t know how to not be scared of them now. He just presses his face into Harry’s shoulder.

That much is true, at least. Niall’s got Harry and Liam and Louis. 

 

* * *

 

N iall feels weird when they finally escape from the audience and the interviewers and the award show. He feels stretched out and like someone has inflated his chest all at once. Like he’s chained to the ground and can hardly stand up and like he’ll float away if he takes a step. 

He didn’t know Liam was going to do that. He didn’t know Liam was going to thank Zayn, call Zayn their  _ brother. _

It’s true. Zayn  _ is _ their brother. 

It still feels strange and wrong to say it out loud, though. It’s hard to think about thanking people for an award and including Zayn when Zayn left. It’s hard to think about thanking everyone for an award about their music when Niall can’t even talk to Zayn about the most recent shows yet.

But he feels on top of the world too, because Liam was cut off the second time in front of everyone. Niall can still hear Louis’ laughter in his ear, see the look of shock on Liam’s face. He feels like he might float away because the fans outside were shouting No Control. Interviewers are asking questions about it, or asking questions that lead to it.

It feels too big to think about. It’s too much to conceptualise. He can still remember going around to radio stations all over the country and practically begging stations to play 'What Makes You Beautiful.' Now fans are getting stations to play their song all on their own. 

He feels jittery and like he can’t be still. He wasn’t planning on doing anything tonight but going back to his hotel. The thought of being alone in his hotel room makes him feel even more jittery and wobbly. 

They’re backstage, just finished an interview, when Louis drifts to his side.

“Got any plans for tonight, Nialler?”

Niall raises an eyebrow. “What have you got planned?”

“Taylor Swift is throwing a party,” Louis replies. “Ed’ll be there, talked me into joining him. Wanna join me?”

He thinks of his empty hotel room and nods. A party with Louis and Ed there sounds like just the kind of distraction he needs. 

“Yeah, sure,” Niall replies, not bothering to hide his relief. “Sounds great.”

Louis grins and Niall knows that he could probably feel how much Niall didn’t want to be alone, but he thinks maybe Louis would have asked anyway. He follows Louis to a car, not sure where Liam and Harry disappeared to, and it doesn’t take long before they’re in the thick of things.

He loses Louis halfway through. Sometime after their pool game with Ed and the lad from that acapella group. He and Ed are talking about their tours and he thinks Louis’ off dancing somewhere, right in the middle of the party where the throng of people is thickest. He catches his voice every now and then, when the music fades out for a beat and Louis’ voice carrying over the crowd. 

Niall feels settled by the sound. There’s something comforting in knowing that Niall can pinpoint where Louis is just by his voice, even when there’s hundreds of other people around. 

When he finally catches sight of Louis stumbling, Louis has already spotted him. Niall can tell by the drunkenly bright grin on his face. Louis drapes himself over Niall, an arm wrapping around his shoulders and hooking around his neck. 

“Let’s go take some photos, Neil!” Louis crows, loud and drunk and happy.

Niall isn’t sober, but he isn’t drunk enough that he hasn’t noticed Louis acting strange. He doesn’t usually get drunk so fast at a party. Niall wonders if he’s actually had that much to drink or if he’s just getting echoes off of everyone around them.

Niall let’s Louis drag him over to the photobooth area. It isn’t a “booth,” really. More of a small set. He laughs when Louis digs through a box with all kinds of props in it and insists on draping half a dozen cheap, plastic necklaces around Niall’s neck. 

“Aha!” Louis crows, pulling out an equally cheap crown. He holds it between both of his hands and looks at Niall with raised eyebrows. Niall rolls his eyes and bends at the waist. Louis places it on top of his head. His hands are clumsy, but he is gentle when he makes sure it won’t fall off as soon as Niall stands up straight.

He pats Niall on the shoulder and Niall looks up at him, straightening slowly in case it won’t stay. Louis grins at him, big and bright. “King Niall, eh?”

“Quite like the sound of that,” Niall replies, smirking. “You getting anything or are you just gonna keep dressing me up?”

Louis peers into the box and immediately pulls out a shiny dagger and raises an eyebrow. Niall laughs and pulls out a shiny sword and holds it up with a grin. Louis laughs and throws his arm around Niall’s neck, dragging them over to Ed.

Taylor Swift is on the other side of Ed and Niall thinks Calvin Harris is over there too. Niall can only focus on Louis. His hand is pressed against Niall’s arm for every picture and Niall can feel the warmth of his hand and condensation off the glass he’s holding. Even when he turns to plant a kiss on Ed’s cheek, all he can focus on is the way Louis’ hand is pressed against his throat.

He drops the crown and sword back into the prop box and drags Louis off into a corner that’s not as busy. Louis is still grinning big, but Niall can see it isn’t quite as genuine. There’s something behind it, a kind of manic energy that makes Niall nervous. 

Louis starts scrolling through his phone clumsily, either unaware of Niall staring at him or ignoring it. Niall watches him scroll through Twitter and is worried he’ll have to make Louis’ phone disappear before the end of the night. The last thing they need is another Twitter scandal because Louis was too drunk to not get into fight with whoever pops up on his feed first.

He doesn’t actually think that would happen. But he doesn’t think drunken tweeting would be a good idea anyway.

“You okay, Lou?”

Louis looks up and smiles brightly. It doesn’t help Niall feel any less worried and even though it doesn’t have the strange current behind it, Niall can tell it isn’t genuine. Not really. 

“I’m serious,” Niall says before Louis can say anything. “You’ve been going out more than usual and your ability - “

“I”m fine, Nialler,” Louis says, brushing him off. “Going out more  _ because _ of the echoes. If I can’t deal with a  _ club, _ what’ll I do when tour starts up again? I’m.. what d’ya call it? Building a… “

“Tolerance,” Niall finishes.

It makes sense. It makes  _ too  _ much sense.

Louis grins and this time it’s nothing but impressed. “Yes, that’s it exactly. You’re really something, you know that?”

Niall laughs, squirming under Louis’ arm. His face feels hot and it has nothing to do with the half-empty beer in his hand.

“What, I’m something because I can finish your sentences? Not a high bar, if I’m honest. ‘Specially when you’re drunk.”

Louis shakes his head. His eyes are bright and focused even though they’re red and a little bit fuzzy with alcohol. 

“No, you just… you’re the best,” Louis says, sounding clear and serious even over the crowd. “Dunno what we’d do without you. I’d probably end up in a ditch somewhere without ya, lad.”

Niall doesn’t quite know what to say. They’re in the middle of a party and Louis’ drunk, whether it’s because of how much he’s had to drink or the people around them have had to drink doesn’t seem to matter much. But the words feel heavy. Niall knows they’re more than just a drunken confession or a little bit of validation. 

“I mean it,” he continues. “I know I’m pissed and probably not making sense, but… I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad you’re always here.”

Niall swallows and wraps an arm around Louis’ waist. He squeezes tight and digs his fingers into the fabric of Louis’ shirt. 

“Whenever you need, Lou,” he replies, as softly as he can manage under the noise of the party. “I’m glad you’re here too.”

Louis hums in reply, pulling Niall closer and leaning against him. “You okay? Like, with the flashes and all?”

NIall sighs and closes his eyes. “Nothing weird since the interview. Just… worried, you know? They’ve never changed like this before.”

“Wish I could help,” Louis says, voice close to Niall’s ear. “Not sure what I can do, though.”

“Just, like… keep an eye out?” Niall says carefully, biting his lip. “I’m afraid I’ll, like, get stuck in a flash or something’ll happen like with a panic attack again. That I’ll break a leg or something in a flash and it’ll still be broken once it’s over.”

Louis’ thumb rubs against Niall’s shoulder clumsily, but it’s heavy and warm. It helps Niall feel like he’s more grounded. 

“Yeah, I can keep an eye on you,” Louis says easily. “Do that anyway, most days.”

“I know something’s bothering you,” Niall says, turning his head so he’s almost saying it in Louis’ ear like they do onstage. “You can tell me, you know.”

Louis looks away, eyes fixing onto the crowd dancing on the other side of the room. “It’s nothing. I’ll be fine in a few days. Swear.”

Niall sighs. “Standing offer, Tommo. Always a standing offer.”

Louis answers by squeezing Niall tight and pressing his face into Niall’s neck. Niall laughs and pretends to shove him away. Louis clings tighter, just like Niall knew he would. 

“Come, young Niall,” Louis says imperiously. “You have yet to dance tonight and that must be fixed.”

Niall laughs and follows him to the dance floor, knowing that it will be less dancing and more bouncing around than anything. Within the hour, Louis steals the necklace he had draped around Niall’s neck. Niall responds by confiscating his phone not longer after.

When Louis plants a sloppy kiss to Niall’s cheek, Niall figures it’s probably time to leave. Louis is hanging off his shoulders so precariously, he’s afraid that he can’t hold himself up. When he leads Louis away from the dance floor, though, he’s walking on his own - even if he’s loud and clumsy and still wearing the gold chain necklace.

Niall laughs to himself and hooks an arm around Louis’ waist anyway. He’ll let go soon, but for now he still wants to be as close to Louis as he can be.

 

* * *

 

As soon as Louis walks in the door for the rehearsal, Niall knows something is wrong. They just saw each other the night before. Niall spent half the day with Louis at Britain’s Got Talent and then they went out and partied for a bit after. He seemed fine - distracted, maybe, and definitely still acting odd, but nothing like this. 

Before Niall can try and say anything, before he can put his guitar down and find out what’s wrong, Liam is there. He’s wrapping Louis in a hug and a bright grin. If Niall didn’t know better, he would think that Liam didn’t notice Louis’ dark mood. But he sees the way Liam is more exuberant than usual. He can see the way Liam is louder in greeting Louis, but softer too. He sees the way Louis relaxes the smallest bit.

Niall drifts over to Harry, keeping an eye on Liam and Louis. He’s by his mic stand and typing on his phone. Niall didn’t really get a chance to say hello to anyone - as soon as he walked in the door, he was getting wired up for his guitar. It’s not a proper dress rehearsal, they don’t have the space for it, but they’re starting to rehearse some of the new songs so Niall needs to have his guitar too. 

He bumps into Harry’s side gently and he smirks, bumping back without looking up from his phone. He starts playing the hook for ‘No Control,’ letting his fingers get familiar with it. He’s nervous about taking over Zayn’s solo. It’s not the kind of solo he usually sings. It’s not the  _ way _ he usually sings. 

But he’s excited, too. He’s excited and nervous about stretching his voice like that.

He yawns, closing his eyes and fingers stumbling on the strings. He keeps playing, but bends his head so he’s propping it up on Harry’s shoulder.

“Stayed out too late partying?” Harry asks and Niall can hear him smirking. 

“Shut it, Haz, you’re being a pillow. Pillows don’t talk.”

“That’s not very nice. I’m more than a  _ pillow. _ ”

“Not right now, you aren’t,” Niall replies, closing his eyes and continuing to play anyway. 

While they run through the show, Niall keeps a careful eye on Louis. None of them really sound their best. They’ve tried to rehearse as much as they could between interviews and writing, but it’s not been anything like they’re used to. Niall can see how Louis gets more and more frustrated after every song.

On a good day, not being able to nail a song down would frustrate Louis. Today isn’t a good day and Niall can see the way the frustration is settling under his skin. 

“Let’s have a break,” Liam finally says halfway through the set, sounding just as frustrated as Niall feels. 

Everyone else drifts off, either heading for the table with food and drinks or heading for the door for a smoke break. Niall and Harry and Liam all drift towards Louis instead. Harry and Liam both try to be subtle, shuffling towards him like he won’t notice. Niall takes his guitar off his shoulders, careful not to get himself tangled in any wires, and sets it on a stand. 

Niall doesn’t bother with subtlety. He walks up to Louis and folds his arms across his chest, raising an eyebrow. 

“What’s going on?”

Louis looks at him, but only for a moment. He turns away quick and bends down, picking up his water bottle and messing with the lid. Niall doesn’t know if he should be worried or annoyed. He doesn’t know if Louis’ being like this because of something serious or if he’s just being dramatic.

“Just a bad day,” Louis says darkly.

Niall doesn’t say anything. He can’t tell if Louis is brushing him off or if he’s being serious. He doesn’t know if he should push or if he should let it go.

Before Niall can decide, Liam drapes an arm across Louis’ shoulders. He watches as Louis leans close. He doesn’t relax, not exactly, but he seems to loosen a bit. He doesn’t look quite as stiff as before.

“Anything we can do?” Liam asks earnestly. Even though he has an arm around Louis’ shoulders, it seems like he’s looking up at Louis. Niall doesn’t know how Liam always makes himself so much smaller when he’s next to Louis.

Louis shakes his head and Liam frowns. Niall bites his lip and suddenly his stomach is lurching and his chest feels tight. Before he can do anything to stop it, the room blurs out in a flash.

He’s in a hotel room with Louis. The curtains are open wide and city lights are glittering outside, but he has no idea which city it is. An American one, probably, but he’s not sure. He has an arm around Louis’ waist and they’re facing each other. Louis’ hair is damp and Niall can’t look away from the way it’s curling at the bottom of his fringe. 

“You know it’s the same for me, yeah?” Louis says softly.

Niall doesn’t know what’s the same, but his chest feels warm and full. He feels too big for his body. His fingers are pressed against the curve of Louis’ spine and he feels like his fingertips are buzzing. His chest feels like it’s been split wide open, it feels like everything he has inside of him is on display for Louis to see. 

It should feel scary. It should be terrifying. 

Niall just feels safe and warm. He looks at Louis and it feels like he’s looking out at a crowd and seeing every tiny, glittering light of a cell phone. It feels like he’s looking up at the stars or out the window of a plane. It feels like everything is stretching out and there’s nothing but Louis as far as he can see.

He feels himself lean forward and he’s kissing Louis. He’s kissing Louis and it makes his head spin so much he feels dizzy. His eyes are closed, but he can feel the way the flash blurs around the edges. 

He swallows and blinks, but tries not to react. He needs to think about that flash -  _ really  _ needs to think about it. He can’t do that now, so he can’t let it affect him. Not even if he can still feel the echo of Louis’ lips on his. 

Louis is still tucked under Liam’s arm and they’re talking in low voices. Niall feels like he has a lump in his throat. He wants to go to Louis and wrap himself close, find out if he can make his fingers buzz just by touching him or if he can feel so warm and safe just by being close.

Now isn’t the time. So Niall bites his lip and turns to Harry instead, letting Liam talk to Louis in quiet almost-whispers and loud laughs. 

The rest of the rehearsal goes more smoothly. Niall still keeps an eye on Louis and he still seems frustrated, but Niall doesn’t feel like he has to worry about interceding. They still don’t sound the greatest, but it feels better than before. It feels like they don’t have to worry about not sounding as good as they should because he knows they will. 

Niall expects Louis to bolt as soon as they’re done rehearsing. He still has the cagey, dark look on his face. The kind that makes Niall want to grab his hand and hold on tight even though he knows he needs to step back. 

He doesn’t, though. He drifts over to where Niall is packing up his guitar while a few people clean up the room around them, getting rid of water bottles and packing away equipment. It’s loud and familiar and Niall hardly notices the noise anymore. He doesn’t know where Harry and Liam are, but he knows they’re nearby. 

“What put you in such a bad mood today?”

Louis twists his head a bit and shrugs. “Dunno. Just feeling… off? Doesn’t feel like we’re ready to go back on tour yet. Still have loads to do with the album and we can’t add any of the new songs yet… just wish this could have been an actual break. Feels like we didn’t have a minute to breathe.”

Niall nods. It feels like they just got off stage and now they’ll be going back on again. They had wanted to get most of the album written in these two months, but Niall feels like they still have so much left to do with it. 

“We can do something about that,” Harry says from behind him. 

Niall turns to look at him with a frown. “What do you mean?”

“We’ve been talking about a break for ages,” he says softly. “And we don’t have anything planned past the album yet. We could give ourselves time to breathe. It wouldn’t help with the album or tour, but - “

“You want to take a break  _ now? _ After everything that’s happened?”

Niall frowns. Harry is right. They’ve talked about this before. They talked it out before tour started back in February and they talked about it before Zayn left. They never officially decided that they would take a break next year, but Niall assumed it was only a matter of time before they made it official. He thought they were all on the same page.

Louis doesn’t sound like he thought so. He sounds surprised.

“We talked about this,” Harry says, sounding as incredulous as Niall feels. “We said we needed a break from touring.  _ You _ said we needed a break.”

“That was before Zayn left the fucking band,” Louis snaps. 

Niall remembers when they first started talking about it. Louis was the one who brought up the idea in the first place. He remembers how they all sat in a room together and Louis talked about how good a break would be for them. How they could  _ rest _ and then come back better than before.

Hearing him snap, such a contrast to that softness, makes Niall recoil. 

“That changed a lot of things,” Niall replies, still crouching next to his guitar and looking up at Louis, “but why does that matter for this?”

“If we take a break now, you know what’ll happen? Everyone will fuck off. It won’t be  _ One Direction Takes A Break _ as a headline, it’ll be  _ One Direction Breaks Up.  _ It’ll be  _ Harry Styles Goes Solo,”  _ Louis spits.

“That was always going to be the story,” Harry replies, sounding angry. “You know that.”

“It was going to be the story in the  _ tabloids,” _ Louis replies scathingly. “This isn’t the right time. It’s the  _ worst _ fucking time to do this. No one’s going to believe us when we say it’s just a break.”

Niall can feel the way the tension is building. He looks at Liam and can see him looking back and forth between Harry and Louis, not sure what to do. 

“That shouldn’t stop us from  _ taking one!”  _ Harry replies, as close to a shout as he can get with other people so close. “So what if they believe us or not? The break isn’t for any of them. It’s for us.”

“Oh, yes, I forgot you lived in a bubble free from conflict,” Louis replies, voice high and haughty. “Some of us aren’t so lucky.”

“Boys,” Liam interrupts, sounding every bit as stern as he used to when they were younger and he still thought they needed looking after, “let’s take a breath.”

Niall knows it isn’t going to work. There’s nothing they can do that can stop this short of dragging Harry and Louis away from each other. He stands, not sure if he should try it or not.

“That’s not what this is about,” Harry says, ignoring Liam entirely. “You know we can’t control what people say. We can’t control what people think about us - we’ve tried. We just have to put ourselves first.”

Louis sneers and Niall’s stomach drops.

“And you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?”

Harry flinches and the sneer drops from Louis’ face. His entire face goes slack, like he was doused with cold water. He turns away, the line of his shoulders snapping from angry to small in an instant. Liam steps between them, but Niall knows he doesn’t need to. It’s over. 

Whatever Harry felt at Louis’ words, Louis felt it too. That much is obvious.

Niall just doesn’t know if he felt it because Harry wanted him to or if Louis was just getting the echo of it.

Niall looks at Harry and his face is soft. He thought maybe Harry and Louis were close to fixing things between them. But it seems like they’re just hurting each other the same way all over again. 

Louis walks away, shoulders hunched. He walks out the door without looking back. Niall looks at Liam and he’s looking back and forth between the door and Harry. Niall nods towards the door. If he goes after Louis right now, it would just end in another fight. Liam doesn’t seem as angry as Niall feels. He’ll fare better.

Liam nods and Niall turns to Harry. He runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head, making a move to leave through the opposite door.

“Harry,” Niall says firmly, stopping him in his tracks.

“Nothing much left to say,” Harry replies. 

“Maybe,” Niall replies. “You want to - “

“I want to go home,” Harry interrupts.

Niall nods. “Want a ride?”

He pauses and for a moment, Niall is sure he’ll say yes. But he shakes his head.

“I’m all right. Thanks.”

He’s out the door before Niall can say goodbye.

 

* * *

 

Niall is livid. He doesn’t know if he has ever been so angry at Louis before. What happened in rehearsal would have been enough to make Niall mad on its own.

Then he fucked off to the States.

Niall’s furious and he doesn’t know how to deal with it. He feels hot all over and he just doesn’t  _ understand.  _ Why is Louis suddenly so against taking a break next year? Why has he been acting so weird? Why did he run off to America?

So Niall’s waiting at the airport. He’s going to pick Louis up and he’s going to figure out what the fuck is going on. Whatever it is needs to get sorted.

He closes his eyes and presses his head back against the headrest. 

He’s so mad at Louis for this it’s like his muscles won’t work. He feels stiff all over. Even as mad as he is, he can’t stop thinking about the flash he had in rehearsal. The way he felt soft and warm and bigger than his own skin, but how it only made him want to feel it  _ more. _ The gentle way his fingers felt like they were full of static and electricity and how it felt comfortable and normal.

Niall’s always loved the boys more than he loves most people. They have less boundaries than most people and Niall loves them differently because of it. 

This is a different kind of boundary. 

What has Niall feeling off-kilter isn’t the flash or how he felt in the flash - it’s the feeling that it was completely normal. Looking at Louis in the flash, kissing him in that hotel room - it didn’t feel any different to Niall than sitting next to him on a sofa.

It felt the same. But it  _ wasn’t. _ Niall doesn’t know what that means.

Niall is startled out of his thoughts when Louis steps out of the airport. Niall flashes the car’s headlights and the line of Louis’ body goes still. He waves off Alberto and climbs into the passenger seat, shoving his backpack at his feet.

Neither of them say a word as Niall pulls away from the curb. Traffic will be a nightmare right now, but maybe that’s a good thing. They can have it out before they get anywhere and Louis can run off again.

“Something’s been going on with you,” Niall says, keeping his voice as low and even as he can manage. He knows he still sounds angry. “I’ve tried to talk to you about it. I keep asking and you keep saying it’s nothing. You can’t do that and then take it out on everyone.”

Louis doesn’t reply. Niall spares a glance at him. He’s holding himself stiffly and staring out the window. Niall expected Louis to be angry. He expected another fight. He didn’t expect this.

“You can’t leave us in the dark, Lou. If something’s messing you up this bad, you’ve got to tell us. Let us know that something’s really wrong before you blow up at us.”

Louis still doesn’t say anything. Niall sighs and it’s frustrated and it’s violent and he hates that he feels this way. He hates that he’s so angry and hates that he doesn’t know what’s wrong with Louis. He wants to help, but he wants to scream and lock himself in his house too. 

He’s so mad at Louis that he could scream and he’s so afraid that something’s  _ really  _ wrong that he could shout. He’s so mad and he’s still so worried.

“If you really think a break next year is bad timing, we’ll listen,” Niall tells him. “But you’ve got to  _ tell _ us, Lou. We can’t very well follow you if we don’t know where you’re going.”

“Fuck,” Louis swears, the word sound like it’s ripped from his throat. “Don’t say that.  _ Shit.” _

“What am I supposed to say? This is a big fucking decision. We have to make it together. If we aren’t all on the same page - “

“You can’t just say you’ll keep going because I said something!” Louis interrupts. “Jesus Christ, Niall.”

Niall bites his lip. It sounds stupid. It sounds stupid and like they’d all be playing fucking martyr, but it’s true. If Louis wanted to keep going for another year, they would. Louis was the one who brought it up. He was the one who sold it to them, talking about how it would be better in the long run. Liam figured out all the details and talked to all the businessmen, but Louis was the one who started it all.

If he really decided now wasn’t the best time, they would trust him. As stupid as it might sound.

“It’s true, though,” Niall says honestly. “We trust you.”

Niall sees how Louis curls in on himself out of the corner of his eye. Niall can feel his anger fading from a boil to a simmer. He can be furious at Louis and still hate the way Louis is trying to make himself smaller.

“Don’t quite know what I’m doing anymore,” Louis says softly. His voice sounds thick and on its way to being properly wrecked. “Can’t tell what’s up or down. I keep thinking I’ll get a handle on it. It keeps getting worse. I don’t know what’s me and what isn’t anymore. Don’t know if there’s anything left of me sometimes.”

Traffic draws to a standstill, but Niall keeps his eyes fixed on the car ahead of them. 

“I don’t know how to make that better,” Niall says quietly, “but just… if you can’t figure it out, Lou, just  _ tell  _ us. Talk to us. If you don’t know what’s you and what isn’t, let us help. Call or come find us. We can help figure out what’s an echo and what isn’t, at least.”

Louis is quiet for a long moment. Niall turns to look at him, keeping the brake lights of the car ahead of them in the corner of his eye. Louis’ slouched in the seat, the hood on his jumper pulled up over his hair.

He looks soft and comfortable and Niall is still so mad he could shout, but he also just wants to take Louis home and sit with him on the sofa. 

“Feel like I’m falling apart,” he mutters, wiping at his eyes. “Like I’m coming to pieces and dragging everyone down with me.”

“We love you,” Niall tells him fiercely. “There’s no place you could drag us that we wouldn’t go with you on your own.”

“That’s the fucking problem!” Louis snaps. “You shouldn’t be following me if I’m going off the deep end.”

“Lou - “

Louis shakes his head and rubs his hand over his face. “I  _ do  _ think a break next year is bad timing. It’s going to get turned into something it’s not even more than it would have otherwise. But we have to do it anyway. We can’t keep going like this.”

Niall nods and turns back to the road. Traffic is inching forward. He wants to say something, he wants to figure out a way for Louis to really feel all right. He’s not sure if there’s anything he  _ can _ say. 

“I’ve got to apologise to Harry,” Louis says quietly. 

“Yeah, you do,” Niall agrees immediately.

“Not just… I have more to apologise for than just rehearsal. I don’t think… we’re not going to fix anything unless we talk about it.”

Niall glances over at him and raises an eyebrow. “I’m not gonna try and talk you out of it, Lou.”

“That’s not… I’m fucking scared. How do I even  _ start _ ? What am I supposed to say?”

“Should probably start with  _ I’m sorry,”  _ Niall replies. “Probably a good place to start.”

“Feel like he won’t believe me even if I try. Don’t know if I would, if I were him.” 

“Maybe he won’t. Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do it anyway,” Niall tells him honestly. 

Harry might brush him off. He might tell him it doesn’t matter if Louis is sorry. But Louis should apologise anyway. 

“Yes, Niall, I  _ do _ know that much. I’m not  _ actually _ a dickhead. Or am I? It just… it makes it harder. Not knowing how he’ll take it.”

Niall glances over at him again. Louis has his arms folded across his chest and his hair is in his face. 

“That’s not the only thing that’s been bothering you,” he says carefully. “You told me a bit about the echoes. There’s more, isn’t there?”

Louis presses his head back against the headrest. He looks exhausted and Niall doesn’t know how to help.

“It’s everything,” Louis replies, voice choked in the back of his throat. “It’s Eleanor and Zayn and feeling like I’m going to make everyone else leave too. It’s the album and worrying if it’s going to be good enough and it’s these fucking  _ echoes.  _ It feels like it’s loud inside my head all the time. Even if I’m alone I still get echoes off people nearby.”

Louis falls silent. Niall doesn’t say anything. He can’t imagine what the echoes are like for Louis. Even the handful of times he’s felt Harry pushing his emotions can’t help him fathom it. 

“Being busy helps a bit,” Louis continues softly, sounding frustrated. “It’s easier if I’m around other people. I get context, at least. Usually. It’s a little better. But now I’m afraid I fucked things up for myself doing that.”

“Won’t be able to party for the rest of your life, Lou. Need a better solution than that.”

Louis laughs and it’s sharp and bitter. It cuts through the quiet of the car like ice. Niall tightens his grip on the steering wheel.

“What else is there? Can’t very well ask you or Li to spend every waking moment with me. Don’t fucking say you would, either.”

“Why not?” Niall asks, glaring but keeping his eyes on the road so he doesn’t hit the person in front of them if they stop. “It’s the truth.”

_ “No,  _ it’s not,” Louis replies angrily. “You wouldn’t be all right with it all the fucking time. And I’d be able to feel it. I’d feel you not wanting to be there. I can feel it now. It wouldn’t help.”

NIall huffs angrily and shakes his head. Louis makes him angrier than anyone, he thinks. Has a way of getting under his skin like no one else can manage. 

“I’m mad at you for fucking off to a different country. If you asked me to sit with you for a night and I wasn’t up for it, I’d say so.”

“I shouldn’t need you to hold my hand every time things get hard. I should be able to deal with it on me own.”

Niall stares out the windshield and swallows. He doesn’t say anything. He tries not to think too hard. He doesn’t want to admit how much it stings. The way he and Louis have leaned on each other in the past few months was something good. He always knew he could call Louis or knock on his door and they’d be able to talk. He knew that Louis could do the same with him. Being the person Louis called when he was upset felt good. It felt like they were working together.

He should have realised Louis wouldn’t think of it so well. It still stings.

“Niall - “ Louis starts, cutting himself off. His voice is softer and guiltier and Niall knows he got an echo even though Niall tried to keep the sting as small as he could.

“If you’re going to say shit like that to us, you have to deal with knowing it hurt,” Niall says firmly. 

Louis doesn’t say anything, but Niall refuses to feel bad. If Louis keeps snapping and saying shit he knows is going to hurt them, he’ll have to deal with it. He’ll have to deal with getting an echo of  _ just how much _ that stings. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice thick and soft. “I don’t… I’m glad you want to help. Don’t know where I’d be right now if you hadn’t been there to hold me hand. It just… “

He trails off and Niall wants to reach for him. He doesn’t know if he wants to hit him or hold him. But he wants to do  _ something. _

“It feels like I should be able to handle this on my own. But I can’t.”

Niall sighs. He wishes he didn’t know Louis as well as he does. He wishes he didn’t understand why this bothers Louis so much. He wants to stay angry. He wants to be mad about this too. But he does understand.

“You don’t have to handle it on your own. We’re your friends. We want to help. Don’t know how to get that through to you.”

“That’s not - you don’t get it.”

“Yes, I do,” Niall replies. “It doesn’t mean anything if you have to ask for help.  That’s what you don’t get. No one’s going to think less of you.”

Louis falls silent again and Niall sighs. He’s pulling into Louis’ driveway and it’s later than he thought it would be. Niall wonders why Louis even bothered coming home at all. They’ll be in Cardiff by lunch tomorrow anyway. It would’ve been easier to fly straight there.

He pulls up in front of the door and puts the car in park. Louis doesn’t move. Niall can’t look away anymore. His hair looks soft around his face. Niall isn’t sure if it’s just the lighting or the white shirt, but his skin looks a little bit tanner - a little closer to gold than it might normally be. It’s probably just a trick of the light, but Niall looks at Louis and it’s almost like he’s glowing. 

“I’m sorry,” Louis says softly, “that I’m such a mess right now.”

“Shut up,” Niall snaps. “Don’t need to apologise for having a rough time. Jesus Christ.”

“Yeah, I do,” Louis replies back, voice just as heated. “Can’t keep the mess to myself, can I? So yes, I do.”

“Maybe instead of trying to keep it to yourself, you should let us help,” Niall says, knowing that Louis won’t listen.

Louis looks up at him and Niall wonders what kind of echoes he’s getting from Niall. Niall feels like there are too many emotions stuffed inside of his chest and he can barely work them out himself. He’s still so angry and he hates that Louis still feels so terrible and he feels like he might burst with anger and love all at once. 

“I’ll try,” Louis says softly.

“All right,” Niall replies. “See you tomorrow.”

Louis opens the car door, but he looks at Niall. “I am gonna try. Not just saying that. I really am.”

“Yeah, Tommo,” Niall says with a sigh. “I know.”

He holds Niall’s gaze for a moment and Niall wants to reach out and grab him, touch him for just a moment. After all the times Louis has ended up on his sofa next to him or pressed against his side in the last few weeks, it feels strange and wrong to have spent an entire car ride without touching.

Niall keeps his hands on the steering wheel. 

Louis’ mouth goes thin and he nods. “All right,” he says softly. “Bye, Nialler.”

He closes the door and Niall wants to stop him. Wants to get out and shake him and tell him it’ll be all right all at once. Wants to shout about how stupid he’s been and just sit close and quiet at the same time.

Niall waits until Louis gets in the front door. He waits until he can see the hall lights flick on through the windows. He waits another minute.

“Fuck,” Niall curses, pulling the key from the ignition and going up to the front door. He knocks and Louis opens almost right away. He blinks at Niall and when his mouth twists, Niall can tell that it’s because he’s trying to hide how pleased he is.

“I’m still mad at you,” Niall says firmly. 

Louis nods. He thinks Louis might understand more what it’s like to be mad at someone but still want to be near them. Even without the echoes.

“Want a beer?”

Niall laughs. There’s something in Louis’ voice that makes the laughter bubble up in his chest. Half the time Niall’s around Louis he’s laughing without really knowing why.

He follows Louis inside, the anger settling into the back of his head. It feels like there’s more room inside his head now. He doesn’t know how long it will last or how long it will take for him to not be mad at Louis.

For now, this can work. They can make it work.


	4. Chapter 4

The first show after a break is always nerve-wracking. This show feels especially big. Niall’s not sure if they’ve ever had a gap so big between shows before. At least, not when it was just different legs of the same tour. It feels like they’re starting all over again.

Niall can feel his nerves crawling up and down his arms and legs. He feels so  _ fidgety. _ He can’t sit still and he doesn’t know what has him so nervous. Maybe it’s the long break or how badly rehearsal ended or the fact that they have two shows tomorrow in two different countries.

Whatever it is has Niall shoved into the corner of the sofa and chewing on his fingernails. 

Niall decided to wait in the green room instead of his dressing room. He has too much nervous energy and would rather not be alone. He can watch people come and go this way, scroll through his phone and pretend he’s just relaxing instead of trying to distract himself. 

It’s mostly crew people coming in and out. Lou and Lux come through a few times, Liam’s been in and out. It helps, a bit. 

“Can we talk?”

Niall hears Louis behind him, voice soft. He turns, but Louis isn’t looking at him. He didn’t realise that Harry and Louis were even in the room. 

“Need to leave for meet and greet soon,” Harry replies, sounding carefully and purposefully casual.

“I know that. I just - “

He cuts himself off, but his mouth twitches. Niall wants to reach out, tell him to just  _ say it.  _ Tell him it’s okay and he’s doing the right thing.

Louis glances over at him and his shoulders relax. 

“I want to say sorry,” Louis says simply, voice firm and confident and quiet. “I shouldn’t have said that shit. Not at rehearsal and not… before.”

“Okay,” Harry says simply, sounding stiff and casual.

“I mean it,” Louis says, undeterred by Harry’s lack of reaction. “I mean it, all right? I’m sorry. I think we need to - “

“I get it,” Harry says. “You’re sorry. It’s fine.”

“It’s more than that. We’ve got… Harry. We’ve got to fix this. We’ve let it go too long as it is.”

Niall expects Harry to brush him off again. He expects Harry to walk away. When Harry’s got his mind set on something, it’s hard to get him to change it. Harry looks at Louis and Niall is sure he’ll walk out. Harry’s gotten better at not letting everything he’s thinking or feeling show on his face, but Niall can see how angry he is. He sees just how much he  _ wants  _ to walk away.

Niall remembers talking to him on the phone. How Harry was so unsure about whether Louis wanted to fix things or not. He feels like he’s holding his breath, waiting to see how Harry reacts.

“Why now?” Harry asks, voice low with an edge of accusation to it. Something sharp and hurt around the edges that he can’t brush over. “Why do you want to fix it now? It’s been years.”

“We can’t ignore it anymore,” Louis snaps, voice still quiet. “This isn’t  _ working _ and we can’t pretend everything is fine anymore. There’s too much else.”

“And because you can feel how much I hate it,” Harry replies darkly. “You can feel it, but you can’t blame me for it anymore.”

Louis’ mouth twists and if Niall felt like he couldn’t sit still before, he feels like he can’t move now. He should have known it would turn into another fight. He should have known that Harry and Louis couldn’t just work it out. He should have - 

“You’re right.”

Niall blinks in shock. He can see Liam in the corner of his eye, frozen by the door. Harry frowns at Louis like he wasn’t expecting it either. Louis’ never going to stop surprising them. As soon as they think they have him figured out, he does something to shock them. 

“I’ve got enough stuffed inside my head right now,” Louis says, sounding tired. “I can’t do anything about half of it. I can’t even figure out who’s feeling what most of the time, if it’s someone else or if it’s me. It’s all just inside my head and I can’t  _ do  _ anything about it.”

It’s nothing Louis hasn’t already told him. It’s less descriptive than what Louis  _ has  _ told Niall. It still makes his stomach lurch. 

“I can do something about this. We can fix  _ this.” _

Louis sounds firm and passionate and Niall doesn’t know how he went from explosive and temperamental to… this. Not in just a few days’ time. He doesn’t know if he’s ever seen Louis so honest when he expected him to be so angry. He feels so proud that he’s sure Louis is getting an echo of it. How can he feel something  _ this much _ without everyone else catching a bit of it too?

“I know I was a dick,” Louis keeps going, voice softer now. “Let me try to fix it, yeah?”

“You weren’t the only one that fucked up. You’re not the only one that needs to fix things.”

Louis keeps his eyes fixed on Harry. Niall didn’t think he would ever see them like this. He didn’t think they could  _ do  _ this anymore. He thought there was too much hurt, too much stubborn pride, too much time built up over them. He feels like he can breathe again, like he can be still and relaxed in a way he couldn’t before.

His chest feels warm and full and he has to bite his fingernails to hide his grin.

“I know it doesn’t mean much now. I know that. But I’m sorry, Haz. Really.”

Harry nods and this time it isn’t short or closed off. He doesn’t reply and Niall knows that he just doesn’t know what to say. Louis doesn’t know what to do with his hands, either, and can’t seem to look Harry in the eye. 

Liam sits down on the sofa next to him. He has his eyes fixed on Harry and Louis, but he’s trying to make it seem like he doesn’t. He’s looking at them like they might explode, but they don’t say anything else. They break apart and leave in opposite directions. Harry pulling on the hem of his shirt and Louis messing with his hair. 

“Feel like I’m dreaming,” Niall mutters, turning to look at Liam. “Are Harry and Lou actually getting their shit together?”

Liam presses close to Niall’s side. “Can’t believe it, mate. Really can’t. I thought - “

“Yeah,” Niall says softly. “I didn’t think they’d ever work it out either.”

Liam nods, but there’s something not right. Niall feels so light. He feels like as soon as he stands he’ll float right up to the ceiling. But Liam has that soft, guilty look. 

“What’re you looking so glum for? They might not have themselves sorted yet, but that was better than what they’ve been doing for ages.”

“No, I know. Just…. figured that I could actually do something, y’know? Can’t do much with these flashes. Thought I could help Harry and Lou out, at least.”

Niall watches the way Liam looks at his knees. The way his shoulders look just a little bit smaller than usual. He has the worst way of thinking he can fix everything. 

Niall knows how hard it is to stand by and feel like there’s nothing you can do. He knows how  _ wanting to fix something  _ can sit inside his chest like a weight, pulling and pulling until it’s all he can focus on and all he can think about. 

Niall’s spent months with the weight inside of his chest. Wanting to fix everything. Fix the flashes and fix Louis’ echoes and fix Harry and Louis and fix Liam looking sad and lost and fix everything with Zayn - fix everything he left behind and whatever they have now.

But Harry and Louis didn’t need him to fix things. They’re managing it at their own pace. 

“It’s not on you to fix things,” Niall says quietly, too aware of his words and of what they mean. 

“That’s not - I just - “

Niall shakes his head and carefully bumps his shoulder into Liam’s. “I get it, Li. I do. But some things can’t be fixed. Harry and Lou figured this out on their own, right? Means we can figure anything out, I think.”

Liam nods, but Niall can see that nothing changed. He sighs. Liam, more than any of them, wants to fix things and make things right. Niall doesn’t know if anything can convince him that he doesn’t  _ need _ to - that they need him for more than just cleaning up their messes. 

“C’mon,” Niall says, pulling himself to his feet, “we’ll be late for meet and greet if we wait any longer.”

Liam nods and follows Niall, but he’s still quiet and not quite himself. Niall doesn’t know what to do about it. Doesn’t know if he  _ can  _ do anything about it or if Liam just has to figure it out himself. 

But Harry and Louis are figuring things out. They’re talking. They’re going to fix themselves and fix whatever went wrong. They can do this.

 

* * *

 

Niall feels like he’s going to burst with how good he feels. Even after seeing everything the fans did with ‘No Control,’ even after being shocked and amazed and in awe for every minute of it, he never could have imagined it. He never could have imagined that performing it would feel like  _ that. _

They’re running for the cars same as always, trying to beat traffic and get out before all the fans. Niall can’t stop smiling. He feels like he has laughter bubbling inside his chest just waiting for an excuse to burst out. 

He looks to his side and Louis is there. They bump into each other and Louis stumbles. The laughter bursts out of Niall’s chest and he feels light in a way he hasn’t in a long time. 

“We should celebrate!”

Louis grins and they’re still running, but they’re looking at each other. “Already got enough drink to float away on in my room. Stuffed the fridge fit to burst.”

Niall laughs again and it’s too loud, but he doesn’t care. He throws his arms around Louis’ shoulders and almost brings them both to the ground. They’re laughing and Niall can’t believe it. Shows always put him in a good mood, but he can’t remember the last time he felt so happy. He feels dizzy, like he could float away if he weren’t wrapped around Louis.

“I’ll get Harry, you get Payno,” Niall tells him. They’re still running next to each other, but it’s harder when they’re tangled up together. Niall doesn’t care. They probably look drunk, weaving back and forth and laughing - both of Niall’s arm around Louis’ shoulders and Louis’ around his waist. 

It’s ridiculous and stupid, but he can’t help the feeling inside his chest. Like he’s filled to the brim and ready to burst. He feels so  _ light _ and Louis is laughing brightly in his ear, fingers digging into his side.

They’re still running and the cars are in sight and Louis drags Lottie against his other side. Niall can’t stop laughing and Lottie’s hair brushes against his hand, so he tugs at it gently until Louis and Lottie peel themselves away from him, heading towards Liam.

Niall climbs into the car and Harry is already turned towards him, eyes bright and hair wild. “That was - “

“I  _ know - “ _

“-  _ incredible -  _ “

“- fucking mad - “

“- why didn’t we add them sooner?”

“I don’t  _ know.” _

“Did you hear them scream when we started up?” Harry asks, alive in the kind of way he only gets after a show. 

“We’re going back to Tommo’s to celebrate. Already has drinks for us.”

“Brilliant,” Harry grins. “I want to just - “

He trails off and Niall knows how he feels. It feels like everything is buzzing, like even the air around him is electrified by just how  _ ecstatic  _ he is and how unreal it was to be onstage. He doesn’t have words to describe the exact rush of joy. 

“Christ,” Niall says, leaning back against the seat and shoving his hand into his hair. “Is that what it’ll be like every night now?”

Harry gets a wild look in his eyes. “Can only hope.”

Niall laughs and darts forward to kiss Harry’s cheek. Harry grins, even when Niall has to wipe at his mouth because even Harry’s  _ cheek _ is sweaty. Harry smirks and Niall pushes himself backwards, knows exactly what Harry is planning to do.

“No, Harry, that’s -  _ fuck  _ you’re disgusting -  _ stop - “ _

Harry doesn’t stop. He wraps himself around Niall, shoving his sweaty face into Niall’s neck and wrapping his sweaty arms around him so he can’t get away. 

“Niall,” Harry says, drawing Niall’s name out obnoxiously. “Just wanna give you love.”

“Do it when you aren’t a sweaty mess.  _ Christ.” _

Harry laughs and as soon as the car stops in front of the hotel, Niall’s pushing him away. He can feel Harry’s sweat sticking to his skin. Disgusting. Absolutely disgusting. He’s smiling so big his face  _ hurts  _ with it. 

Liam and Louis are already pulling drinks out of the fridge when Harry and Niall crash through the door, Harry still trying to plaster himself against Niall. Liam grins at them and Louis raises an eyebrow, mouth twisting.

“All right, lads?” Louis asks, sounding far too pleased.

“Harry’s gross and sweaty,” Niall replies, shoving Harry away and slipping into the bathroom before anyone could follow him. “Not coming out until he agrees to wash!”

“Hey,” Harry protests from the other side of the door, “that’s not very nice, Nialler. You’re not smelling great either.”

“I’m not trying to rub my sweat on you, am I?”

He can hear Liam laughing and can’t wipe the smile off his face. He catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror and he looks almost manic. His cheeks are flushed bright red and his hair’s a mess and he looks sweaty and tired and like he’s on top of the world.

“Let him in, Niall! He can’t wash anything if you’re barricaded in the toilet,” Louis says loudly.

Niall laughs but lets the door swing open. Harry is smirking at him and purposefully knocks into his shoulder on his way to the sink. Niall rolls his eyes and knocks his hip against Harry’s, shoving him out of the way long enough to wash his own face. He can still feel the laughter sitting in the back of his throat, nestled in his chest. 

Harry keeps poking him in the ribs, smirking in the mirror when Niall jumps. It’s silly and dumb and feels normal. It’s annoying and Harry knows he’s being a pest, but it feels  _ right. _ This is exactly how it should be after a show. 

Niall wipes off his face with a towel and Harry’s fingers are in his ribs again. Niall reaches up, face still buried in the towel and hand damp, shoving his fingers in Harry’s hair and messing it up.

Harry yelps and Niall grins, jumping away and tossing the towel at Harry before he can retaliate.

“Not the  _ hair,  _ Niall!” Harry groans.

“Your hair’s fine, you baby,” Niall replies, dropping down onto the sofa next to Liam. Louis reaches across, handing him a beer and Niall grins at them.

Louis rolls his eyes and Liam is talking about the show - about how great it was and all the little things that stuck out to him same as he always does. His hands move around, big and expressive and Niall settles against his side. 

They haven’t done this in a while. Have each gone their separate ways after shows more often than not in the past few months. Split up and scattered to the wind. The last time they all got together like this after a show was in Dubai when Louis made them all fess up to their useless bits of magic. He can’t remember the last time it felt like  _ this. _

Harry comes back in and sits on the arm of the sofa behind Niall. His knees are pressed against Niall’s back and Niall leans back until his head is tilted up at Harry. He waits until Harry looks at him and then he grins. Doesn’t say anything at all. Just presses his back against Harry’s legs and sits up straight to grin at Louis and Liam as well.

They don’t seem to notice, caught up in each other. Niall thinks Louis must be getting echoes of Liam’s energy. Even with as ecstatic and electric as Niall feels, he is starting to settle into it. The static in his fingertips is starting to quiet into a soft kind of warmth. He can feel the way Harry is starting to relax behind him. But Liam and Louis are still so vibrant. They have to be feeding off each other.

Niall doesn’t say anything. He leans back against Harry and watches Liam and Louis. He watches their hands, spinning in circles and landing on each other’s shoulders. He laughs when Louis pokes fun at something Liam says, can feel Harry’s knees knocking against his back lightly.

“Love you, boys,” Niall says when there’s a moment of quiet. He doesn’t care if it’s sappy. It’s true. 

Liam smiles and wraps an arm around Niall’s shoulders, pulling him into a hug. Harry tugs on his hair gently, feet nudging his hips. Louis just smiles softly and it’s enough.

_ This  _ is enough.

 

* * *

 

Niall feels like shit.

He didn’t feel so miserable during the show. He definitely didn’t sound his best - he was cold and uncomfortable and had a harder time focusing. Definitely missed some cues. But he didn’t feel this miserable. 

Even under all the blankets he could find in his hotel room, he’s still cold. He can’t sleep because every time he tries to lie down in bed, he starts coughing too much to get comfortable. So he’s on the sofa and he has a pillow shoved behind his back and the duvet from the bed draped over him and he knows how ridiculous he must look, but he is so fucking miserable.

He’s alone in his hotel room and it’s late. He just wants to  _ rest. _ But even wrapped up as much as he is, he’s still cold and even though he’s not really lying down, he’s still coughing. He wishes he got something to drink before he got on the sofa. 

There’s a knock on the door. Niall groans and tips his head back. 

He’s not comfortable at all, but the thought of getting up to open the door makes him want to melt into the sofa. 

There’s another knock and Niall sighs, struggling to get free of the duvet. He’s already turned the deadbolt. Even if it’s security, they won’t be able to get in. 

He stumbles to the door. He feels dizzy and out of sorts. When he opens the door, Louis is on the other side 

He’s wearing a jumper with the hood pulled up and a loose pair of joggers with only a pair of socks. As soon as he looks at Niall, he frowns. 

“All right, Nialler?” 

Louis slips into the room, hand immediately latching onto Niall’s bicep. 

“Feel like shit,” Niall mumbles, hating how much he wants to drape himself over Louis and sleep. He can take care of himself. He  _ can.  _ He doesn’t need Louis to look after him just because he has a bit of a cough.

Still. More than anything, he wants to lean forward and press his face against Louis’ shoulder. Louis keeps frowning at him and before Niall can step back, Louis pulls him forward. 

“If you want a hug, just ask,” Louis grumbles, wrapping his arms around Niall’s shoulders. “Don’t need to feel bad about it. Christ.”

“Being stupid,” Niall mumbles. “Just a bit of a cough.”

Louis shakes his head and squeezes his arms around Niall’s shoulders. Niall hangs onto the loose fabric of his jumper. He’s not quite hugging back - can’t seem to make his arms work well enough. 

“Why’ve you got your bed all ripped up?” Louis’ rubs his fingers against Niall’s back. Niall sighs, pressing his forehead into Louis’ neck. 

“Couldn’t lay down,” Niall replies. “Kept coughing.”

Louis steps back and Niall wants to reach out and grab him, make him stay. He doesn’t. Louis’ hands stay on him - one on his shoulder and one back on his bicep. He rubs his thumbs against Niall’s skin and Niall closes his eyes.

“Go get yourself set up on the sofa, then,” Louis says quietly. “I’ll make us some tea, yeah? Have you taken anything?”

Niall nods. “Medicine hasn’t done much good, though.”

He opens his eyes and is silenced by the look on Louis’ face. He knows that he and Louis are quieter with each other than they are with the other boys. They’re a little bit softer with each other. Niall’s never really thought much on it. It’s nice to know that even as loud and boisterous as Louis can be, he still needs a little bit of quiet.

Still - he doesn’t know how to deal with Louis looking at him so softly. For a moment, Niall feels like he’s the one that can get echoes of other people’s emotions. He feels like he knows every quiet, gentle feeling that Louis is throwing at him. 

Louis doesn’t seem bothered. He touches Niall’s cheek gently, palm pressed against skin and fingers scratching at his hair, before stepping away. Niall blinks and returns to the sofa. He doesn’t know what his head is doing. He’s so tired and feels so terrible. He can feel something shifting, but he doesn’t know what it is.

“What’re you waiting for, Horan? Gonna fall off your feet if you hang about much longer.”

Niall looks up and despite Louis’ tone, he has an eyebrow raised in concern. He’s worried, but he knows how much Niall hates bothering people when he’s sick. He shakes his head and goes back to the sofa, crawling under the duvet again. 

He closes his eyes, keeps them closed even when Louis comes back over. He sets something down on the table and Niall still doesn’t open his eyes. He keeps them closed even when Louis crouches down in front of him.

Louis’ breath tickles his hand and Niall opens his eyes. The hood of Louis’ jumper is pushed back and his hair still looks prickly with hairspray from the show. His eye brows are still raised. Like he’s waiting for something.

“You weren’t this bad earlier, were you?” Louis asks, sounding unsure. 

Niall blinks slowly and shakes his head. “Nah. Must’ve worn myself out or something.”

Louis keeps looking at him and Niall can feel something inside his chest go tight and soft all at once. He doesn’t know what’s happening anymore. It’s like everything he feels lately is  _ physical.  _ It’s never been like that before. It feels like he’s constantly on the brink of having a flash, but he doesn’t.

Niall blinks again and his vision starts to blur around the edges. Louis tucks his hand against Niall’s neck at the same time and Niall can feel how rough his skin feels. He blinks and expects to be in the middle of a flash, can feel it pulling inside his chest and behind his eyes. He knows there’s nothing he can do to stop it, no trick he can pull to keep him in the present.

Louis rubs his thumb against Niall’s jaw. 

The touch is soft and firm all at once and it feels like his breath is stuck in his chest, separate from the sick feeling of not being able to breathe from being ill. Niall doesn’t see anything but Louis in front of him, balancing on his toes next to the sofa. 

“Want me to stay?” Louis asks softly. 

Niall feels like he’s reeling. He’s never had a flash start and then stop like that. If his vision blurred, it was too late. He’s tried to stop flashes at that point and it’s never worked before.

He should be worried. His flashes are still changing, even months after he started getting headaches every day because of them. He doesn’t have the energy to worry, though. He just feels comfortable. Louis’ hand on his face feels warm and he feels like he could fall asleep now. He still aches all over and his chest is still in bits, but it doesn’t matter as much.

“Yeah,” Niall replies softly. “If you don’t mind.”

Louis smiles, mouth closed and small but his eyes sparkle. “Offered, didn’t I?”

Niall nods and Louis takes his hand away, standing and moving down to the other end of the couch. Niall pulls his feet up and Louis crawls under the duvet with him. Louis sits and pulls Niall’s legs onto his lap, tugging until Niall is lying down properly. He can’t be comfortable with Niall’s legs sprawled over his lap, but Louis doesn’t say a word. 

His hand settles on Niall’s knee - the bad one - and his touch is just as soft and firm as it was when he was touching Niall’s face. 

Niall closes his eyes, trying to relax. It isn’t as difficult as before. He still coughs a bit, but now Louis rubs his thumb against his knee whenever it happens. It still hurts and it’s still keeping him up, but he feels like he’s resting. That’s something, at least

“Had a question for you,” Louis says in a low voice. 

Niall hums in reply and feels Louis’ hand go still against his knee. He can feel the way Louis tensed up the tiniest bit. 

“Glasto is next week,” Louis says, sounding a little nervous. “We’ve not got a show and, well, I thought… maybe you’d want to go with me?”

Niall wants to open his eyes and look at Louis. He can hear something in his tone. It makes him think of the flash where they were kissing, where it felt like so much  _ more  _ than kissing. He wants to open his eyes to make sure that he isn’t wrong. He wants to ask if Louis is asking him on a date - a  _ proper _ date, if that’s why he sounds so nervous.

He doesn’t open his eyes. He doesn’t know what he would say if Louis said  _ yes.  _

“‘Course, Lou,” he says instead. “Love to.”

Louis relaxes and rubs his thumb against Niall’s knee again. He doesn’t reply and Niall’s grateful. He doesn’t know how to make sense of his own head. Doesn’t know how to sort out everything in his head. 

“Should try and sleep, lad,” Louis murmurs. 

Niall almost argues, but he’s finally feeling comfortable and relaxed. So he hums instead, trying to lie very still so he won’t cough. It’s easier with Louis’ hand on his knee.

 

* * *

 

Niall knows he’s being ridiculous. He’s being silly and sentimental, but it’s just so hard to keep it down. It’s hard to keep the sentiment locked up or pushed aside when he’s onstage and the crowd is electric and the boys are so happy and  _ good. _

He can’t stop dancing with Liam or laughing at Harry and he can’t keep his eyes off Louis. He can see so clearly how Louis is feeding off of the crowd. Niall can’t imagine what the echoes must feel like when faced with so many thousands of people. Louis seems more vibrant than he’s ever been. He bounces just a little bit more and can’t stop from smiling and he keeps drifting to the sides of the catwalk or the edge of the stage so he can see the fans better. He seems to know exactly what to do to make them smile the biggest.

It isn’t just the fans. Niall knows it’s not. He knows Louis is getting echoes off of all of them. He chases Liam a little bit faster and sings a little bit stronger and he keeps looking at Niall, face as soft as the inside of Niall’s chest feels. 

The sun always seems to be setting during shows now. They miss most of it because of the stands in the stadiums, but there’s always a moment where everything feels golden. He looks at Louis and it’s like sunlight is stuck in his hair. He’s smiling and singing and Niall needs to focus on his guitar and his harmony and making sure his voice doesn’t crack, but it’s hard to focus on anything when Louis is glowing.

Niall still isn’t sure what to make of his head. He doesn’t know why the soft feeling in his chest whenever he looks at Louis is so much more noticeable than before. He doesn’t know why it feels like everything with Louis is so different, but just the same all at once. 

It’s like the inside of Niall’s chest is a house and Louis has started knocking out walls in his room to make more space.

Niall doesn’t know what it means. It’s terrifying and Niall doesn’t know why it feels exhilarating at the same time. He’s never felt like this before. He doesn’t know what to do with the feeling.

Louis catches his eye and smiles. They’re still singing, but something in the quirk of Louis’ eyebrow makes Niall want to laugh. He smiles through the lyrics, perfectly aware of every camera on him.

 

* * *

 

Niall has been standing in front of his closet for near an hour. He’s being stupid and ridiculous, but can’t seem to talk himself out of doing it either. There’s no reason for him to be worrying over what to wear. It’s  _ Louis.  _ Louis won’t give a damn if he shows up in one of Harry’s sheer, unbuttoned numbers or if he showed up in a turtleneck. He’d give Niall shit for both of them, but he wouldn’t care.

Niall can’t help but stare at his closet like it will throw clothes at him so he doesn’t have to decide what to wear.

He knows that he isn’t the only one Louis invited. Whenever Lou goes out, all his lads are usually with him too. There’s  _ no reason _ for Niall to be thinking so hard about what to wear.

But Niall can’t shake the nervous, tight feeling in his stomach. He can’t stop thinking about the way Louis’ voice went soft and shaky around the edges when he asked if Niall would come to Glastonbury with him. He can’t stop thinking about the flash from weeks ago. The one where he kissed Louis. 

Niall can’t wrap his head around it. It’s not like he’s never kissed Louis before. They all have. He’s kissed all the boys at least once. Not in a long while, but it’s happened. 

None of the kisses ever made him feel like the one in his flash did. He doesn’t know if he’s  _ ever  _ kissed someone and it felt like that did. Like it was safe and comfortable and like Niall could spend the rest of his life just like that without caring. 

Niall doesn’t know what to make of it. Kissing has always just been  _ fun.  _ Nothing has ever felt like this before. Niall doesn’t know if anyone has ever taken up as much room inside of his head before, not the way Louis is now.

Niall doesn’t know what’s going on. He just knows that being around Louis means something more now. How Louis looks at him and how Louis sees him means  _ more,  _ even though it always meant so much to start. It’s terrifying.

He feels like he’s sixteen again, desperately wanting Louis’ attention and hanging on his every word. Except he knows how silly it makes him look now that he’s nearly twenty two. 

He’s being stupidly picky about which t-shirt he wears and which pair of sunglasses he should use and which jacket to take once the sun sets and it gets chilly. He’s even picky about how to dress up the plain, black t-shirt he finally settles on. 

He knows he’s being stupid and knows he’s thinking too much about something so simple, but he can’t help it. He wants Louis to appreciate it, wants to look good even if it’s something simple and he knows Louis won’t really care either way. 

He wants Louis to know that he understands this is important. Even though he tried not to get serious when Louis asked, he wants Louis to know that he gets it. He doesn’t know why it feels different, but it does. He wants Louis to know that.

He feels self-conscious and silly in the necklace that might have been a gift from Harry. He feels fidgety and nervous right up until the moment he sees Louis.

They decided to meet there and Niall leaves his cap and jacket in the car. He can always run back and grab them if he needs and he’d feel stupid walking around carrying them. For once, Louis beat him someplace. He spots him across the car park, lingering near the gate with a group of friends and security. 

If he didn’t know Louis as well as does, he might not have realised. But he does know Louis and he knows just by looking at him that Louis agonised over how he looked just as much as Niall. He can tell by the brand new white shoes and the cozy, carefully rumpled jacket and the unwrinkled bright white shirt. He can tell by the way his hair is pushed back and to the side. Not quite up and not quite down. It’s the way he fixes hair when he wants to look good, but casual. 

Niall feels so relieved. As soon as Louis spots him, he grins and Niall can’t help but return the smile. 

“Hey, Nialler,” Louis says as soon as they’re close enough. He doesn’t hesitate in wrapping Niall up in a hug, squeezing him around his shoulders. 

Niall squeezes back, tucking his face into Louis’ shoulder. It makes his sunnies dig into his nose, but he doesn’t mind much. It feels too nice to have Louis wrapped around him. 

“Hiya, Lou.”

It feels silly to be so happy. He saw Louis two days ago. They went clubbing after all the work stuff with the new perfume. Niall woke up feeling terrible and Louis teased him for it on Twitter. They spent two hours on the phone so Niall could tease him back. Niall may have felt like he got run over by a truck from feeling ill, but he knew that Louis would be nursing a hangover before he ever picked up the phone. Even before that, they had a show and spent most of the day in each other’s space. 

There’s no reason being back in Louis’ space and hugging him should feel as good as it does. It shouldn’t feel like such a relief. They’ve hardly been apart. But it does. It feels like coming home after weeks and weeks of being away. It feels like finally being able to settle on his own sofa and sleep in his own bed and use his own kitchen and his own shower. It never stops feeling like coming home.

Hugging Louis, even if it’s only been a day or so since he last saw him, feels the same way. It feels like he can breathe and just  _ be.  _

Louis steps back, clapping his hand against Niall’s back. “Gotten over the hangover, I see,” Niall says, nodding to the drink in Louis’ hand.

“No idea what you mean,” Louis replies airily. “Hangover? Never heard of it.”

Niall laughs and shakes his head. “‘Course not. Not like they have your picture up for the definition or anything.”

Louis scoffs and reaches up with his free hand to tug on Niall’s necklace. “What’s this, then? Starting a new trend now?”

Niall shrugs and Louis tugs the necklace a few more times, thumb rubbing over the heavy charm on the end. He lets it drop against Niall’s chest and looks up at him with a smile.

“Like it,” he says, voice just a shade softer than before. “Suits you.”

Niall bites his tongue, trying to push down the way Louis’ made his belly go warm and his face go red. Louis tries to hold back a smile and Niall knows from the way his mouth twists that he got an echo of Niall’s pleasure even though he tried to keep it hidden.

“C’mon, lad, let’s get you a drink. Then we’ll figure out who’s playing when.”

Niall walks beside Louis and he doesn’t mean to, but he ends up ignoring everyone else. It’s hard to pay attention to anyone but Louis when Louis is always right there at his elbow. He sticks to Niall’s side like they haven’t seen each other in months. Louis’ lads are all there and a few other people from tour and there are cameras around every turn all day long, but Niall ignores them. 

All he can focus on is Louis.

When it’s finally time for James Bay to play, it’s just Louis and Niall. Security is nearby, of course, but everyone else has scattered. It feels good. Right. James Bay is  _ their  _ thing. 

“Thanks for inviting me,” Niall says, their shoulders knocking together while they watch the stage get prepped. 

“Glad you came.” His voice is soft. He shifts so that he’s pressed closer and Niall goes still. 

It’s quiet for a few moments. Niall hears Louis sigh and turns to look at him out of the corner of his eye, keeping their shoulders pressed together. 

“You know I’m sorry, right? About the rehearsal and leaving like I did.”

Niall frowns. “Yeah, Lou. I know.”

Louis nods, but he doesn’t look reassured. Niall is surprised. He hadn’t realised that Louis was still thinking about that. 

“I know I fucked up. Should’ve told you I was going. Talked to someone. It was just…”

“What’s going on? That was weeks ago. We’re not mad at you anymore. You know that.”

“I never apologised properly. Didn’t explain why I was upset. Not really.”

Niall goes still. He doesn’t want to get closer to Louis in case he wants space, but he doesn’t want to move away either. So he stays where he is, their shoulders pressed together. He focuses on Louis even when the crowd starts to scream and the stage lights start to flash. 

“If you want to talk, I’ll listen. But you don’t owe me anything, all right? I forgave you for that mess a while ago.”

“I want to tell you,” Louis replies immediately. “I need to. It’s just… hard.”

Niall waits. He knows that Louis has to work himself up into talking about tough things. He needs time so he can say it all in one go. Niall leans towards Louis the slightest bit, but focuses on the stage. The opening drums and riff start up and it’s easy to give Louis time to get his thoughts together.

“I told you about why I was clubbing so much, didn’t I?” Louis asks, voice soft even under the sound of the music and the crowd. Niall can’t believe he can actually hear him. 

“You said it helped. To deal with the echoes. You wanted to make sure stadiums wouldn’t be too much for you.”

“That was part of it,” Louis says. Niall turns to look at him and hates how he can see just how nervous Louis is. He can see it in the way Louis’ forehead is creased and the way his mouth is twitching at the corners. 

“It was easier,” Louis continues. “Focusing on the echoes was just easier. I didn’t have to think about anything else.”

“Lou - “ Niall tries to interrupt.

“But it got… things were…” Louis sighs in frustration and shakes his head. “I was stupid. I was really fucking stupid. You know… you know I don’t really sleep around. I just don’t care about it unless I’m with someone. It’s not something I think about or care about unless I’m with someone. You know that.”

Niall didn’t know that for sure. He doesn’t know if he and Louis have ever talked about that kind of thing. It’s been so long since Louis was single, it was never an issue. Eleanor was there and Louis loved her, so what he thought about unattached sex wasn’t something they ever really had to talk about it. 

Even if it was something Louis might have talked about, it wasn’t something he would have talked to Niall about. He would have talked to Zayn.

Eleanor’s gone now. Zayn’s gone now. Everything is different now.

Niall doesn’t say anything. He tries to make sure that all Louis can get is an echo of support. He wants Louis to know that he wants to listen to whatever Louis has to say. 

“I thought it was me. I thought maybe things were different. It just… it made sense. I thought I grew out of it or that it was because we were friends. That I had been with El so long that it changed without me realising it.”

Louis closes his eyes and swallows. Niall wants to do something. He can see how tightly Louis is holding himself and wants to reach out and do something. 

He presses his shoulder against Louis’ a little firmer. It’s the only thing he feels like he can do. Louis reaches out and grips the railing tight. Niall can see the way his knuckles go white in a flash of light from the stage. 

“I think I was wrong,” Louis says, voice cracking and leaning closer into Niall’s space. “I don’t think it was me at all. I think I was getting echoes off of other people. Just convinced myself it was me, not everyone there who wanted to have sex. I thought it was  _ me.  _ That’s why I got so… you know. Scared myself a bit, I think.”

“You could’ve said something before,” Niall tells him. “We would’ve understood.”

“It wasn’t just that. I... I fucked up, Niall. I really just..”

Niall shifts, taking his hand out of his pocket. Louis is still gripping the railing tight and Niall hopes it’s too dark for any photos to come out. He knows Louis wouldn’t want anyone seeing him like this. He sounds scared and upset and Niall wants to take him away. He wants to pull him away from the cameras that might be on them and the fans that might want to stop and talk to them. 

He reaches out and covers Louis’ hand with his instead. 

“Met a girl a few months ago,” Louis says and he just sounds  _ tired.  _ “Don’t know if I mentioned her or not. Briana? We got on great. Hooked up a few times.”

Niall feels like he already knows what Louis’ going to say. He’s never had a flash about this, but he feels like he can see where this is leading anyway. 

“Right before that rehearsal, she called. She’s… fuck. She’s pregnant.”

Niall holds Louis’ hands tighter. Grips as hard as he can without hurting both of them. 

“I feel so fucking  _ stupid, _ ” Louis manages. “Can barely take care of myself and now…”

He cuts himself off and shakes his head. He can feel Louis holding onto the railing even harder than before and squeezes. He can feel the way Louis’ hand shakes in a way that doesn’t have anything to do with the way the railing is thrumming from the bass and drums.

“It’ll be okay, Lou,” Niall tries to tell him.

Louis swallows and shakes his head. “I’m not… I have to deal with it on my own. Just, making it feel real, yeah? I just… I needed to tell someone. I wanted to tell you first. You’ve put up with the most from me lately.”

“You’ve put up with a lot from me too, Lou. It’s not a one-way street.”

“Still,” Louis repeats, voice sounding less shaky than before. “I wanted to tell you first. Well, first after me Mum.”

Niall nods and squeezes Louis’ hand again, can feel him relaxing a bit. “Whatever you need, you know we’ll be right here. You know I’m always a phone call away if we’re not down the hall from each other, right?”

“I know. It’s just… feels like I have to work through it myself, doesn’t it? Can’t be taking care of a baby if I can’t take care of myself.”

“That’s not how it is. But even if you just want someone to talk things through with, just to figure it out yourself, or to just sit with while you figure it out. I’m always around, yeah?”

Louis looks over at him and Niall notices that the crowd has gone quieter during a softer song. He keeps his eyes on Niall for a long moment and Niall wonders what kind of echo he’s getting. 

“All right,” Louis replies. 

Niall squeezes Louis’ hand one more time before letting go. Louis’ hand slips off the railing and Niall presses closer to his shoulder. 

“How’re things with Harry?”

Louis sighs and shrugs. “We haven’t talked yet. Not really But… we’re writing something. Don’t know if it’ll go anywhere, but it’s something.”

Niall isn’t surprised when Louis doesn’t say anymore. They focus on the stage and nothing else for the first time since James walked onstage. Louis sways into his side and Niall wants to reach over and hold his hand again. Louis probably wouldn’t mind. Would laugh and make a joke of it. 

But Niall doesn’t want to hold his hand as a joke. He wants to hold Louis’ hand because Louis’ hands are always warm even when he says he’s cold and because Louis was upset and because he’s scared. He wants to hold Louis’ hand so he can be sure that Louis knows he isn’t going anywhere. He wants to hold Louis’ hand just so he can hold Louis’ hand.

Louis moves forward and away from Niall, leaning against the railing with one hand. Niall blinks, his side suddenly chilly without Louis pressed against him. Before he can move Louis reaches back with his other hand, slipping it into Niall’s. 

Niall sighs and twists his hand to fit in Louis’ better, holding the railing with his free hand to lean on it and mirror Louis. He squeezes Louis’ hand because his chest feels too full. He doesn’t know when he became the person Louis came to first. He assumed that with Zayn gone, Liam was the one Louis talked to about things like this.

He shouldn’t feel so happy that he’s the one Louis came to first after Jay. But he is. He’s glad that Louis trusts him with this. Trusts him with something so big and terrifying. 

They’re standing together and James Bay is onstage and even after such an intense conversation, Niall is just happy to be there. He’s happy to be standing there next to Louis, to hold his hand and hear one of his favourite songs live. 

All the nervous energy from getting ready is gone. All the questions about why Louis is taking up more space in his life than before get fuzzy and less important. 

“This what you meant?” Niall asks, knowing it’s out of nowhere.

Louis turns to look at him with a raised eyebrow. “What’s that?”

Niall smirks. “This what you meant by I’d know if it was a date?”

Louis laughs, sudden and bright and loud. He stands up straight, covering his mouth with the hand that’s not in Niall’s and Niall grins. 

“This is a proper good date, isn’t it?” Louis asks, still smiling. “You’ll have to step up your game, Nialler. Can’t get away with home-cooked dinners anymore.”

“I’ll figure something out,” Niall replies, keeping his eyes on Louis and how he’s still laughing softly. He keeps his fist over his mouth and Niall is suddenly grateful that he has Louis. He don’t know what his life would be like if he didn’t have Louis in it. 

“Love you, Lou,” Niall says. He didn’t mean to say anything, but it’s true. 

“Love you too,” Louis replies easily, squeezing Niall’s fingers and rubbing his thumb against Niall’s hand. “And just… thanks.”

“For what? Listening? Don’t need to thank me for that.”

Louis shakes his head. His eyes are still bright, but he looks more serious. Not like before. He doesn’t look upset, he just looks sincere. 

“Not for that. Just… I know you’re particular ‘bout your space. I’m just glad you keep letting me invade it.”

Niall makes a face. “Shut up, Tommo. I’ve always got space for you.”

Louis smiles at him and it’s nothing like the smile he had before, but it feels bigger somehow. It’s smaller and fonder and it makes Niall feel hot all over. It’s not a new look. Louis looks at him like that all the time. He looks at  _ Louis  _ like that all the time. But Niall wants to squirm under it now. It feels so much bigger, so much more pointed than it has before.

“I know. Thank you.”

Niall shrugs his shoulders and turns back to the stage. Louis laughs softly and squeezes his fingers. They don’t talk much for the rest of the set, but Louis holds his hand the whole time.

 

* * *

 

For once, Louis isn’t late to rehearsal. 

Niall’s still there before him, but Liam and Harry haven’t showed up yet. Helene hasn’t even come in to roll her eyes at their lateness yet. Niall’s not sure if Sandy or Josh are even here yet. 

Louis walks in with a backpack slung over his shoulder, hair soft and unstyled and wearing a pair of joggers. He smiles when he sees Niall and comes over right away, wrapping Niall up in a hug before he can say hello. Louis’ arms are tight around his shoulders and back and Niall can’t help but tuck his face into Louis’ shoulder.

“Hey, Lou,” Niall says, voice muffled against Louis’ jumper. “Everything all right?”

Louis sighs and his breath blows against the back of Niall’s neck. “Yeah. Just… missed you, is all.”

Niall should tease him. It’s only been a week, after all. But he doesn’t. He just grips the back of Louis’ jumper until Louis steps back.

“You’re early,” Niall says with a grin. “I wake up in a different universe or something?”

Louis rolls his eyes and laughs. He shakes his head and his hair falls in his face. Niall folds his arms across his chest so he doesn’t do something stupid like reach up to fix it.

“Hilarious, Horan. You’re a real comedian.”

Niall laughs and his chest shakes, but he loves the mockingly indignant look on Louis’ face.

“Seriously, you beat  _ Liam.  _ Sure you aren’t sick or something? Don’t know if you’ve ever made it somewhere before Li.”

Louis shakes his head. “No, no. Briana had an appointment. Had to make it the first one of the day so we wouldn’t get spotted. Was already up and out.”

NIall nods, but watches Louis carefully. He hasn’t mentioned anything about Briana or the pregnancy since Glastonbury. At least, not to Niall. He’s pretty sure Louis has told the boys and most of their closer friends from tour. But he hasn’t said anything to Niall since they talked at Glasto.

“It go all right?”

“Yeah, yeah, all fine. Did an ultrasound and everything. Looks almost like a proper baby.”

Louis sounds nervous and scared and Niall bites his lip. He doesn’t sound as bad as he did at Glasto, but it’s close enough to make Niall nervous. Niall doesn’t blame him. He knows that Louis will be a brilliant dad, but having it sprung on him out of nowhere after everything that’s happened in the past few months can’t be easy.

“That’s great, Lou,” Niall says softly. “You know… I mean, you know it’ll be okay, right? Like, you’ll be great. I’m not just saying that. You’ll be really great.”

Louis shrugs, shaking his head in a helpless kind of way. “Just feels like too much. Makes me want to hide somewhere for a while.”

“You tell the boys yet?” Niall asks, just to make sure. 

“Yeah. And the band and most of our tour people. Just… mentioned it, y’know? Told all the business people too. Think they want to put out a statement or something. I didn’t want everyone hearing it from a fucking tabloid or something.”

He sounds tired and Niall can’t imagine how that will go. He can’t imagine what will happen once the whole world knows. 

It probably won’t be good.

“Have it blacklisted,” Niall says immediately, keeping his voice firm. “After the article goes up. That way you don’t have to answer questions about it.”

“Won’t do any good,” Louis mutters. 

“Fuck it won’t. We can’t stop them asking about Zayn, but we can stop this. We can make this part easier for you.”

Louis reaches up to push his hair out of his face. He nods, but he still looks tired and sad and Niall wants to reach out and shake him. He wants to keep asking questions. He wants to  _ really  _ talk it out. It would probably do Louis some good.

He doesn’t, though. It wouldn’t be fair on Louis, no matter how good Niall thinks it would do. 

“Ready for the new songs?” Niall asks, changing the subject so Louis doesn’t have to.

Niall can see Louis relax. He can see it in the line of his shoulders and the way his face looks looser than before.

“Think so. We still have to figure out what we’re cutting, though.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Niall replies. 

Louis nods and reaches up to pull Niall’s cap down over his eyes. “You and your accessories. Gonna put superglue in this so you couldn’t get it off if you tried. I’ll be a proper Matilda.”

Niall scowls, but he knows Louis sees right through him. “Leave me alone, Tommo, or I’ll have to cut up all those stupid tank tops you wear.

Louis laughs and Niall sees Liam come through the door. He stops dead when he sees Louis, eyes going wide with shock. He grins and puts a finger over his lips, moving towards them slowly. Niall resists the urge to roll his eyes and keeps his eyes off Liam while he tries to sneak up on Louis. 

Liam is right behind Louis when Louis is the one to roll his eyes. He lets Liam jump him, squirming away when Liam digs his fingers into Louis’ sides. As soon as Louis’ free, his fist goes straight for Liam’s dick. He misses, but he grins anyway. 

“Knew you were there, Payno! Gonna have to do better than that now that I’ve got a Spidey Sense.”

Liam smiles at him, big and bright and completely unfazed. “How are you, boys? All good?”

Niall reaches up to poke Liam’s cheek. Freckles that aren’t usually there stand out against his skin. “You got some sun. Have fun?”

Liam’s smile goes even brighter. “Loads. It was great. Got a picture with a raptor, it was wicked.”

Niall means to reply, but then his phone rings. Louis and Liam don’t even blink when he steps back, pulling out his phone to answer.

He’s a few steps away from them when he sees the display. He freezes.

There’s a picture of Zayn lit up on his screen. It’s an old one, his hair short and messy. Niall can’t even remember when he took it. He probably has a hundred just like it, Zayn asleep against his shoulder in a car. 

Niall doesn’t know why Zayn is calling. He doesn’t know what to do. His thumb hovers over the screen. He hasn’t talked to Zayn for months. Not since he called after the mess with Louis on Twitter. He hasn’t texted or called and he’s kept off Twitter. He doesn’t know where Zayn’s been or what he’s been doing.

He answers the call just before it stops ringing. Does it on impulse. Instinct he can’t quite shake. 

“Hey,” Niall says warily, trying not to sound as strange as he feels. “Everything okay?”

“Hey,” Zayn replies, sounding completely and utterly casual. “You busy?”

Niall wishes he could sound so casual. He wishes that he could so easily act like there’s nothing strange about Zayn calling out of the blue. He feels off-kilter, like someone has covered his eyes and made him spin around too fast. He doesn’t know where he’s going and he feels like he’s going to trip and fall.

“Will be soon. Have rehearsal in a few.”

Zayn hums in reply and Niall can see the way he nods his head in his mind. NIall swallows and waits, but Zayn doesn’t say anything. He waits and waits until his skin is crawling. Zayn still doesn’t say anything.

“Why’re you calling?” Niall asks, keeping his voice low. He can hear Liam and Louis behind him. They’re loud and bright and unruly and Niall so desperately wants to keep them away. If they know who he’s talking to, they won’t sound so happy. Liam will get quiet and sad and Louis will get upset. Niall isn’t sure if he would get angry or sad, but he would be upset. Louis has enough to worry about at the moment.

“Just… wanted to check in. Been thinking ‘bout you and the boys.”

Niall hopes Louis isn’t paying attention to him. He hopes that he isn’t getting any echoes off of Niall because if he does, he’ll know something is wrong. Niall can’t seem to focus on anything but the way his heart is pounding. He can feel it beating against his chest and his throat and pulsing against his fingertips where he grips the phone to his ear.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Niall finally manages.

“The truth, yeah? Just wanna know how you are.”

“We’re fine,” he forces himself to say. Niall closes his eyes. He still doesn’t know if he can tell Zayn about the flashes. He knows he can’t say anything about what’s going on with Louis, that it isn’t his place. He isn’t sure how he would even start to explain what’s happening with Harry and Louis. He wants to ask Zayn if he’s talked to Liam, but doesn’t know if that would really help Liam or not if they haven’t talked.

He hates that he doesn’t know what to say to Zayn anymore. He hates that the quiet feels awkward now. 

“That really the truth?”

From anyone else, it would probably sound like an accusation. From Zayn, it just sounds small and gentle like he wants to make sure it’s true.

Niall sighs and hopes that it doesn’t get picked up over the phone. He doesn’t know how to explain that some days they’re okay. Some days it feels like they’re on top of the world, like they’ve started all over again and everything is brand new. He doesn’t know how to explain that on other days the euphoria can snap in an instant. It can turn on them and leave them feeling like they’re unravelling at the seams.

He doesn’t know how to explain it to Zayn. Not when it feels like the constant back and forth between  _ okay  _ and  _ not okay  _ started once he told them he was really going to go. Not when the push and pull got so much more extreme once he was gone.

“Most days it is,” Niall finally says. He doesn’t know how else to put into words everything that’s caught in his throat. 

He can feel his heart beating faster and faster. It’s like a bird trapped inside his chest, battering itself against his ribcage so hard it feels like he’s shaking with it. He wants to be able to talk to Zayn like they always have. He doesn’t want to feel like this. He doesn’t know  _ why _ he feels like this, not when Zayn called him. 

It’s what he’s wanted. Zayn to reach out on his own. He doesn’t know why it makes him feel so trapped.

Niall closes his eyes and tries to breathe. It shouldn’t be as hard as it is. He knows he needs to say something, that Zayn will get worried and then he’ll have to try to explain what’s happening. He can feel himself working up to a panic attack when suddenly there’s a hand on his shoulder.

Niall doesn’t need to look to know that it’s Louis. His hand goes tight around the phone. He should shake Louis off and walk out to finish the conversation. He should hang up the phone and turn around to play it off. He should do something to stop the storm that is about to happen.

Louis’ hand is warm and tight on Niall’s shoulder. Niall doesn’t want to shake him off. He doesn’t want to leave. As hard as it is, as much as it hurts, he doesn’t want to hang up either. Not when Zayn has finally reached out. Not when he was the one to call after months and months.

Niall feels paralyzed by indecision. He doesn’t know what to do, so he can’t do anything at all.

Louis reaches up with his free hand to pull Niall’s phone away. Niall opens his eyes and watches as Louis looks down to see Zayn’s name on display. His fingers go tight on Niall’s shoulder and his face goes angry just before it goes blank. 

Niall can’t look away. He hardly dares to blink. Louis has gone still, mouth thin and thumb hovering over the  _ end call _ icon. His heart is still beating too fast, a bird hammering itself against his insides and tearing him apart. Louis closes his eyes and his thumb twitches.

“Niall? You there?”

Zayn’s voice comes through clearly, even if it’s soft. Niall keeps his eyes fixed on Louis. He sees the way his jaw locks and the way his cheeks hollow like he’s biting his tongue.

Louis’ thumb moves to the edge of the case. His eyes are still closed when he lifts it to his ear.

“It’s me,” Louis says and his voice is tight. Niall can hear the way he’s holding himself back. He can hear how Louis is tensing every muscle as clearly as he can see it. “Don’t think Niall’s ready for whatever you were trying to talk about.”

He sounds rigid and Niall can hear how he’s forcing his voice to stay even. Niall should be angry. It’s not up to Louis to decide what he’s up for and what he isn’t. He should tell Louis that he can fight his own battles.

But he’s not sure he could fight this battle. He’s not sure if he could tell Zayn how hard it is to talk about how he is with him. The last thing he wants is for Zayn to feel like he can’t call, but Niall doesn’t know how to tell Zayn he can’t do this. Not yet. Not when it feels like this.

Louis is so close to him that Niall can still hear Zayn on the other end of the phone. 

“Just wanted to check in.” Zayn sounds just as tense as Louis. Niall feels like there’s something tied tight across his chest. It’s like there’s a rope stretched between Louis and Zayn and Niall is wrapped up in it and it’s pulled taut. He can hear the fight building and doesn’t know how to stop it.

“Text first next time. Ask if we’re up to a call or not.”

Zayn doesn’t reply and Niall wonders if the  _ we  _ stands out to him as much as it does to Niall. 

Louis squeezes Niall’s shoulder and for a moment, it’s too tight. It only lasts a moment and then he rubs his thumb against Niall’s neck.

“Can I talk to him or are you his guard dog now?”

Louis’ mouth goes thin and Zayn’s tone is harsher than before. Niall feels like he has something stuck in his throat. Louis holds the phone out, eyebrows raised. If Niall wanted to, he knows he could shake his head. Louis would take care of it. 

Niall takes a deep breath and slides the phone out of Louis’ hand. He locks eyes with Louis and nods. He can finish this conversation on his own. He doesn’t need Louis to hold his hand for this.

He understands abruptly what Louis meant last month. This is something Niall needs to do. Louis must have felt the same way. That’s what he meant when he said he shouldn’t need Niall to hold his hand.

Louis nods too and squeezes his shoulder before walking away. Niall takes another deep breath, trying to steady himself. He lifts the phone back up to his ear.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “I know I’m bein’ stupid.”

“Don’t call yourself that.”

Niall shakes his head. “It  _ is _ stupid. Lou’s right. Don’t know if I was really up for a call out of the blue like this.”

Zayn is quiet and Niall can only hear static. It still feels like he has too many words caught in the back of his throat. Too many emotions he can’t process right now.

“That doesn’t… it doesn’t mean I don’t want you to call. I do. Just… “

“‘S’okay,” Zayn says, voice soft and his accent so much heavier than Niall remembers. “I get it.”

Niall pushes his hand into his hair. He hates that he feels like this - that he needs a  _ warning  _ before Zayn calls. It feels stupid and awful. They’ve spent  _ years  _ living in each other’s pockets. And now he needs Zayn to ask if it’s  _ okay  _ to call.

It feels terrible and wrong and it makes his stomach turn in the worst way.

“I’m sorry,” Niall repeats. He needs Zayn to understand. To really understand.

“I can text, though, yeah?”

Niall lets out a shaky breath and it could be something close to a laugh or to a cry. He’s not sure which. “Dunno, can you? Never been your strength.”

Zayn giggles and all at once Niall’s chest goes loose and he doesn’t know if he can hold himself up, but still feels so tight that he can hardly breathe. He misses Zayn so much it hurts. 

Niall looks behind him and sees Harry come in, Helene and Sandy just behind him. 

“Gotta go now.”

“All righ’, then. Bye, Niall.”

“Bye,” Niall says, feeling like he has to say something more. There has to be something else he can say. 

The line clicks before he can figure out what. 

He slips his phone back into his pocket and closes his eyes for a moment. He takes a deep breath. He can still feel his pulse pounding in his ears and against his throat. He swallows and just tries to breathe. He refuses to panic about this. He  _ won’t _ have a panic attack over Zayn. He won’t. 

He turns and Louis’ eyes are fixed on him. Liam and Harry are catching up, LIam grabbing Harry’s arms and laughing while Harry grins at him. Louis keeps his eyes fixed on Niall. As soon as Niall is close enough, Louis sways right into his space. 

Louis doesn’t say anything and Niall is grateful. He doesn’t know what he would say, how he would answer any question Louis might have. Standing next to him like this, keeping their shoulders pressed together, it helps Niall breathe easier. He can feel his heart slow from the frantic pounding against his throat. 

Helene manages to get them organised and focused enough to warm-up. It’s easier when Louis is quiet like this, sticking to Niall’s side instead of trying to wind Liam up every chance he gets. It still isn’t easy. Not with Liam and Harry both climbing the walls since it’s been a week since they’ve last performed. 

Niall still feels unbalanced from Zayn calling. Even after they finish warming up, even after they run a few choruses to make sure harmonies are balanced, even after they do a full run of Act My Age, he still feels like everything is just slightly off-balance. Like it’s been tilted the tiniest fraction and the whole world has shifted because of it. 

Louis sticks close to him and Niall isn’t sure if it’s to make sure he’s all right or if it’s something else. He doesn’t say much. He just stays close enough that Niall can brush shoulders with him whenever they move. Niall can see how he’s trying to act normal even though he’s so much quieter than usual. 

Niall knows that Louis probably hasn’t talked to Zayn. Not before today. He knows how hard it must have been for Louis to not just hang up the phone or walk away.

They stand right next to each other when Helene has them sing the chorus for Spaces acapella. Louis’ fingers brush against his wrist and they don’t normally stand so close like this. Louis always stood with Zayn or drifts closer to Harry, always so wary about how much  _ louder  _ he can get than the rest of them. Louis is always so aware of how they sound. He’s so aware of whether they sound their best or not.

But today he stays next to Niall. He stays next to Niall even though Niall is singing a harmony and even though Harry is on the far side of their semi-circle. He stays next to Niall and lets his fingers brush against Niall’s wrist even though he usually sings with his hands clasped or behind his back during rehearsals like this. 

It helps Niall feel more balanced. Less like he’s standing at the edge of a railing and leaning over the edge, about to fall off. 

They sing ‘Spaces’ and it isn’t the first time, not by a long shot, and they’re just singing it acapella to make sure the vocals are all good, but it feels big. It feels big and expansive and the tight feeling in Niall’s chest from the call with Zayn feels like it’s been stretched too wide. He knows how good they sound, how  _ clean  _ it sounds, and he feels like the only thing holding him to the ground is the brush of Louis’ fingertips against his wrist 

The band gets set up so they can run through it properly and Niall has to turn away for a moment. He closes his eyes and knows that if he opens them, his vision will go fuzzy around the edges. Everything will blur and he won’t be in their rehearsal anymore.

It’s just the lingering anxiety from the phone call with Zayn. That’s the only reason singing the song felt like he was being opened up too wide, everything he doesn’t want everyone to see on display. It isn’t the song, it’s just the anxiety. He’d feel the same way if they were singing ‘You & I’ or ‘Through the Dark’ - they just haven’t rehearsed any of the more serious songs except for this one.

He still can’t shake the feeling of being put on display. He can’t shake the fuzzy, tight feeling of a flash. 

Someone touches his shoulder lightly. Just fingertips, like they aren’t sure Niall wants to be touched. 

“What can I do?” Louis asks, his voice pitched low even under the sound of Josh’s drums and Jon tuning his guitar. 

Niall doesn’t trust himself to speak. He feels like he’s paralyzed again. If he moves, he’ll be in a flash even if he keeps his eyes shut. He feels untethered and not even Louis’ hand on his shoulder seems to help.

“We’ll be back in a mo’,” Louis calls to someone behind them. “Niall and I are getting some air.”

Louis’ arm hooks around his shoulders and he pulls Niall out of the room, making it appear casual and normal. Someone says Louis’ name, but no one follows them. Niall keeps his eyes closed, trusting Louis not to run him into any walls. Louis turns him around a corner and then pulls them to a stop. 

“Y’all right?” Louis asks quietly.

Niall swallows. Doesn’t know how to answer. He still feels like he’s on the verge of having a flash, but maybe it isn’t a flash at all maybe the gaping feeling isn’t anything to do with a flash at all maybe - 

Louis puts both hands on the sides of Niall’s head. The hallway is quiet, but his hearing still goes muffled. Louis rubs his thumbs beside Niall’s eyes, along the length of his cheekbone. Niall knows he needs to breathe, knows he needs to make himself breathe deeply, but he can’t. He  _ can’t.  _

“Niall,” Louis says, voice soft and close enough that his breath brushes against Niall’s cheek.

Niall gasps and he can breathe, but he’s crying too. He bites his lip and tries to hold it back, but his shoulders shake anyway. Louis pulls him forward, one hand moving to the back of his neck and guiding his face to Louis’ shoulder. He wraps the other arm around him, hand wide and warm against Niall’s spine. 

Louis is warm and soft and solid where Niall feels like he’s coming apart at the seams. He knows it isn’t fair. Louis is just as upset, has even more to be upset about than Niall does. It’s not fair for him to need Louis to hold him up like this. 

“None of that,” Louis says in his ear, his breath warm against Niall’s ear. “Not taking advantage of anything, lad, all right? You can give me a cuddle next time.”

It helps, but Niall still feels guilty. Still feels like he’s taking advantage when Louis is still trying to find his footing. 

He still feels guilty, but he can’t make himself back away either. He holds onto Louis’ waist as tight as he can and cries into his shoulder. He lets Louis rub the back of his neck and along the curve of his spine until he can breathe easily again. 

They need to go back and rehearse. Niall needs to get himself together, make sure he  _ can _ walk back into the room to rehearse. He needs to let go of Louis and they need to go back to the boys and the band and all of it.

He doesn’t move. He stands there for a moment longer. He keeps his forehead pressed against Louis’ shoulder and focuses on how Louis is rubbing his thumb along the back of his neck.

 

* * *

 

Niall doesn’t know why, but for some reason all four of them are shoved into one car tonight. He isn’t sure if he can remember the last time that happened after a show. He doesn’t know how it happened this time. He knows he climbed into a car after Harry, but before he had a chance to sit down Louis pushed Liam in ahead of him.

Usually they’re loud and can’t stop talking after a show. It’s the biggest adrenaline rush and none of them are able to shake it off fast enough. Whenever they’re in the same car together it almost always ends in elbows thrown and shouting. None of them are as small as they were five years ago and now their shoulders don’t fit in such a tight space quite as easily.

They should be loud and unbearable.

They’re all quiet. 

Harry’s shoulders are squishing him right into Liam’s side and Louis looks like he can’t move from how he’s trapped between Liam and the door. None of them say a word. Paddy doesn’t say anything from the driver’s seat even though they shouldn’t all four be squished in the back like this. 

It’s quiet and Niall knows it should feel uncomfortable. He knows it should feel awkward and stilted. They aren’t usually like this. It should feel strange and make him uneasy that they are so quiet.

He’s not, though. He doesn’t feel quite as euphoric as he would normally. He feels smaller than he normally does coming offstage. Less like the world is open and big and wide around him. It’s more like he’s aware of everything around him, can see how he fits and how small he really is. 

Niall feels Liam fidget next to him and glances over, just for a second. His face looks soft and a little confused. Niall doesn’t try to say anything. He doesn’t try to think about what might be wrong, about what could be making them feel so much smaller and more aware of everything instead of ecstatic. 

He doesn’t think. He leans over out of Harry’s space to try and put his head on Liam’s shoulder. It doesn’t quite work, not with the way they’re all packed together. He ends up with his head pressed against Liam’s cheek. 

But Liam laughs. He laughs and turns to kiss Niall’s head and settle against him, giving Louis a bit more room. 

They’re pulling up to the hotel when Louis finally breaks the silence.

“You’ll all come up to my room, yeah?”

It’s a question, but Niall knows that none of them will think of saying no. Something different happened for this show and they have to figure out what. The show was great. There’s no reason for them to be so quiet like this. 

But they are. And they have to fix it. Because if they’re quiet like this after a show, that might mean fans are too. If something isn’t working, they need to fix it. 

Security takes them into the hotel one by one. There aren’t fans waiting outside the hotel, but it would be tempting fate for them all to hop out of the car at once. By the time they get up to Louis’ hotel room, Niall can feel exhaustion settling in. It usually comes later than this, the adrenaline from after a show enough to keep them up for hours. 

He knows they have to fix this. They have to figure out what’s changed. But all he really wants to do is shower and crawl into bed. 

“All right?” 

Niall turns, Harry looking over at him with raised eyebrows and knocking his shoulder into Niall’s. He’s sweaty and gross like he always is after a show, but Niall doesn’t try to shove him away. 

“Just tired,” he replies. “Think Louis’ll let me steal his shower before we all sit down?”

The corner of Harry’s mouth twitches up and his eyes twinkle. Niall doesn’t quite like the look. It makes him feel like he’s up to something. 

“What?” he asks, frowning at Harry’s smirk.

“Pretty sure Louis would let you steal more than his shower, Nialler.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Harry laughs and doesn’t answer, just shakes his head and touches his hair. Niall wants to ask what he means again, but Harry would just talk in circles anyway. 

Louis is waiting for them, door half open so he can lean against the door frame. It’s a security risk and they all know it. No one says anything. Everyone must realise tonight isn’t a normal night.

“‘Lo, boys,” Louis says, swinging the door wide. “We’ll be all right for the night, lads. Just staying in.”

Niall slips past him while he’s still talking to Basil and the other security boys that brought them up. Liam’s already on the sofa, wearing one of Louis’ jumpers. It looks tight across his shoulders, but he looks smaller in it too. 

“Want anything?” He holds up a menu. “Tommo and I are gonna order up some food.”

“I can eat,” he replies, “Gonna shower first, just get me whatever.”

“Want me to run and get you fresh clothes?”

Niall shakes his head and waves him off. “Thanks, Li. I’ll just grab something off Lou.”

He closes the bathroom door behind him, but doesn’t bother locking it. He knows Harry will want to come in and wash his face, probably pull up his hair. Maybe someone will convince Louis to wash up too. 

Niall strips his clothes off quick and gets in the shower. The water is hot and he closes his eyes and tilts his head back. He knows that he has the water too hot, that it will steam up the mirror even with the fan going and that it’s going to turn his skin red. But he doesn’t move to change it. He keeps his eyes shut and lets the water roll down his neck and shoulders, tips his head back so he can wash out the hairspray and sweat. 

He hears the door open and reaches for Louis’ shampoo, rubbing it into his hair roughly. Niall isn’t surprised when Harry pulls back the curtain and pokes his head in. He wishes he could be surprised, but he isn’t. 

“You’ve fogged up the mirror,” Harry says, pouting at him. 

Niall shrugs, washing the shampoo out of his hair. Harry doesn’t move. He frowns and his hair is hanging around his face and Niall raises his eyebrow. Harry still doesn’t move.

“Just gonna stay there and watch me shower, H?”

Harry keeps frowning. “I was going to wash my face.”

“Don’t really need a mirror to do that, do ya?”

Harry doesn’t reply. His frown turns comical and Niall laughs, flicking water towards his face. He ducks backwards and Niall laughs harder. 

When Niall turns off the water a few minutes later, his chest and arms are bright red and Harry is standing by the sink. His hair is up in a bun and his face looks shiny and he’s smirking at Niall. He’s moved all the clean towels to the counter behind him and is holding one in his hands. 

“Harry,” Niall starts, narrowing his eyes. 

“You don’t  _ really  _ need a towel,” Harry asks, smirk still firmly on his face, “do ya?”

Niall groans. They’re all awful. Always butchering an Irish accent and thinking they’re so  _ clever _ . 

“You’re a nightmare,” Niall groans. “Just gimme the towel.”

For a moment, Niall is sure he’s going to have to chase Harry down for the towel. But he just grins brightly and tosses the towel at Niall’s head. He catches it and rubs at his hair roughly so it won’t drip down his neck before wrapping it around his waist. Harry all but skips out of the bathroom and Niall rolls his eyes. 

He dries himself off and wraps the towel around his waist before wandering back out into the hotel room. Louis is on the sofa next to Liam, peering over his shoulder and stabbing at things on the menu while Liam leans away from him and tries to talk into the phone. Louis keeps talking over him loudly and Niall feels bad for whoever is on the other end of the call, trying to decipher their order.

“Tommo, leave Liam alone and come get me some clean clothes,” Niall calls, heading straight for Louis’ suitcase. He can’t tell what’s clean and what’s not and he’s not going to take a pair of joggers or jumper if Louis hasn’t had it washed in a week.

Louis comes over and grumbles. “Gonna nick all my clothes, you and Liam. Isn’t your room just down the hall?”

Niall rolls his eyes. “Oh, yeah, I’ll just pop down in a towel. Nothing will go wrong with that plan.”

Louis makes a clicking noise with his tongue and shakes his head. “Suppose we can’t have any fans finding you in such a state. Here, these are clean.”

He hands Niall a pair of blue jogging bottoms and a red and blue jumper. Niall doesn’t bother going back to the bathroom to change, just takes off the towel and pulls on the joggers. He puts on the jumper as well, letting the zip at the front hang open and pushing the sleeves up to his elbows. 

Louis raises an eyebrow at him, mouth twisting up. Niall grins and darts forward to kiss him on the cheek. Louis breaks and a grin slips out before he can help it.

“Thanks, Lou,” Niall says brightly, gathering up his towel and heading back to the bathroom to hang it up. 

Liam is sitting in the corner of the sofa, stretched out and slouched low. Niall sits down on the other end and drops his legs right next to Liam. He pushes his feet into Liam’s thighs and makes sure not to grin when Liam giggles a bit. 

Niall leans back and shoves his hand into his hair. It’s damp and it’s gonna be fucked if he messes with it before it’s dry, but he still feels a little uneasy. Harry pulls a chair up so he’s across from them and Louis settles into the armchair, pulling his legs up onto it in front of him. 

“So,” Louis says, “what do we need to fix?”

They’re all quiet for a moment. Niall can feel Liam shift. He pulls at his hair a bit even though he knows it’ll be a mess when it dries. 

“Are we sure this is something we can fix?” Harry asks in a low voice. “It’s not like we’re performing any differently. It’s just afterwards that feels off.”

“There has to be something,” Liam argues, voice soft and small.

Niall glances over at Louis. He thinks he knows what they have to do. But he doesn’t like it. He knows what the fans will say and doesn’t want to have to do it. Louis catches his eye and sighs. 

“It’s just been the past two shows,” Louis says, voice low, “yeah? They’re the only ones that have felt like this. Weird and serious after instead of fun.”

Harry looks at Louis and his eyes are sharp and focused. Liam frowns at Louis and Niall knows they’re all on the same page now. They all know what they have to do.

“You think it’s from changing the set?” Liam asks.

Louis shrugs and folds his arms across his chest. Niall feels like he can barely see him, slouched in the seat and knees pulled up in front of him. 

“Don’t see what else it could be,” he replies. 

“‘Spaces,’” Niall murmurs, still messing up his hair with one hand. “Think it might just… be a bit much. Under the circumstances.”

They all fall quiet. Liam looks down at his knees and Louis blocks his face with his knees and Harry looks at Liam carefully. Niall feels like something is stuck inside his chest. He looks at how Louis sits and can see the way Zayn would have fit next to him. He looks at how Liam curls up in the corner of the sofa and can see how Zayn would have turned his body towards him. He looks at how Harry tracks Liam’s movement and can see the way Zayn would have caught his eye.

It’s just a song. It’s just a song and they sound great performing it, but it’s too much. Niall feels like his skin is too sensitive, like he’s stayed out in the sun too long and instead of going inside to put aloe on it he just stays out and gets more and more burned. 

It’s too much. They’re not ready. 

Niall doesn’t know how the fuck they’re going to sing anything off the new album. 

“We can add ‘Fireproof,’” Niall suggests. “Have it ready for Canada, at least. Fans have been wanting it for ages anyway.”

The boys don’t say anything, but Niall knows it isn’t because they disagree. 

The quiet settles around them and it isn’t uncomfortable. But it’s so obviously present. It doesn’t make Niall feel uneasy, like the quiet in the car, but it’s palpable. It makes the air feel like it’s humming or full of static.

“They’re publishing some article,” Louis says quietly, voice shaky and uneven. “Keep saying they want to ‘break the story’ or some shit. Before Briana or I get caught at an appointment by a pap.”

Louis is still hiding behind his knees. Niall wants to sit up so he can see him properly, make sure he’s okay. He doesn’t move. It doesn’t feel like he  _ can. _ The static feeling crawls along his skin and he knows that as soon as he moves, they’ll all look at him. They’ll expect him to  _ do _ something. Niall doesn’t know what he  _ could  _ do. 

“You okay?”

Liam sounds small and unsure, like he doesn’t quite know what he would do if Louis said  _ no.  _ Niall understands the feeling. The only problem is that Niall knows Louis would be lying if he said  _ yes.  _

Louis sighs and shifts in the seat, letting his legs drop to the floor. “Yeah,” he says, sounding exhausted and completely unconvincing. “I just don’t know how to wrap my own head around it. Now the whole world’s gonna know.”

“We can get them to postpone it,” Harry says. His voice is soft and pitched low, but he’s looking at Louis in that intense and focused way he only gets when he is really paying attention. “It’s still early, isn’t it? We can push it back.”

Louis looks at Harry and they don’t say anything else. They don’t say anything, but Niall knows they’re still having a conversation. Even now - even after the years of distance and the fights and Zayn leaving and more fights and trying to fix all the damage - Harry and Louis are still in sync with each other.

“Wouldn’t do any good,” Louis finally replies. “Longer it waits, more chance a tabloid will find out. Thanks, though.”

The  _ thanks  _ sounds stilted and too formal, but Niall can see that Louis means it. Harry keeps looking at Louis the same way, too intense and too focused. Then he blinks and nods. Niall can see the back of his neck and how his hair is curling wispy and soft just above the collar of his shirt.

“We’ve got your back, Tommo,” Liam says, voice stronger now. Confident. “Whatever you need, we’re here.”

Louis looks at him and tries to stay unaffected and casual. Niall can see the way his eyes sparkle, though. Can see how he moves his jaw to keep his face even. 

“I know,” he replies. “Thank you.”

Niall doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t need to. He can see the way Louis relaxes, knows that he’s getting echoes of nothing but love and support and concern off of them. Niall knows that he can’t help but look at Louis and want to protect him the way he’s always protected them. He can tell just by looking at them that Liam and Harry feel the same way. 

He also knows that Louis doesn’t need them to protect him. He can look after himself just fine. He just needs them there to support him. He needs people to fall back on.

“Love you, Lou,” Niall says sincerely. He knows it’s what the other boys are thinking too. Doesn’t need Louis’ echoes to know that much.

He smiles anyway. He still looks tired and pale, but he doesn’t look as worried as before. 

“Love you too.”

There’s a knock on the door and Liam gets up to answer it and get the food they ordered. Niall keeps his eyes on Louis. He’s worried about Louis. He’s not quite sure what he can do about it, but he’s worried. 

He keeps hoping that he’ll wake up and suddenly realise there’s an easy solution to all their problems. That there’s a button they can push that makes everything okay again. That they’ll wake up one day and just be  _ okay _ . 

There’s no easy answer. He wakes up every day and wonders if it’s going to be a good day or a bad one. Niall doesn’t know how much longer they can go on like this. There are too many bad days and not enough good ones to balance it out. 

It feels like they’re building to something and Niall’s afraid the  _ something  _ is explosive. It feels like they are suddenly too bright and they can’t keep themselves steady anymore. It’s like gravity shifted and they still haven’t adjusted. They’re suddenly a star that’s dying, collapsing in on itself and ready to implode. Niall’s afraid that there’s nothing they can do to stop the supernova.


	5. Chapter 5

 

Niall isn’t sure how they end up in a hotel. They were supposed to go in and record, make some last minute decisions on the album. It’s why they flew out to Chicago right after a show. 

None of them were too happy about having to hop on a plane straight after coming off stage, especially since they got rained on. Then there were paps at the airport when they landed and they got ushered into a hotel room instead of off to the studio. 

All the adrenaline from the show has worn off. They’re tired and annoyed and just want to sleep. But they can’t, because chances are security will be back in five minutes to take them to the studio. 

Niall is lying on the bed, still wearing the same damp jumper he wore onstage because they were told their luggage would be waiting for them and it’s not here. Liam’s talking to Paddy through a crack in the door, probably trying to figure out what is holding everything up. Harry is typing on his phone one-handed, the other tapping against the arm of the chair angrily. He’s sitting ramrod straight and Niall knows it’s a bad night if even Harry is this visibly annoyed.

Niall turns over, throat feeling too tight. Louis is by the window and he’s still in the gaping tank top from the stage, hair falling down from the quiff he had it up in. Niall can see the gooseflesh on his folded arms.

Niall hears the door close and Liam says something to Harry. Niall doesn’t listen. Maybe he can sleep for a few minutes before they’re shuffled off again. 

“I’m fine, Liam,” Harry says, loud enough that Niall can’t ignore him. 

Niall frowns at his tone. He twists so he can look at Harry and Liam. Harry is still sitting as straight-backed as before, but the position doesn’t look angry to Niall anymore. Liam’s frowning and Niall knows why. It’s the same look Liam and the boys gives him when he starts rubbing at his knee. 

“Harry - “

“I’m  _ fine.”  _

Niall pushes the tip of his tongue against the back of his teeth. He can hear the stubborn edge, the petulant whine that means Harry isn’t budging. 

Liam doesn’t say anything, but he hovers awkwardly. His cheeks look soft and pudgy and he’s frowning and he’s still sweaty and disgusting from the show. His hair is falling in his face and his shirt is still damp, probably from the hundredth water fight with Louis.

He looks down at Harry and he’s frowning and shifting from one foot to the other. They all know Harry’s not fine, but Liam has a harder time letting lies like that slide when he knows they aren’t true.

“Jesus Christ,” Louis swears. His voice cuts through the room and makes the hairs on Niall’s arm stand up. “Your back is fucking killing you. We’re not stupid. Let Liam get you an ice pack or something and stop suffering in silence.”

There is a moment of silence and Niall feels like he’s in the eye of a storm. 

Harry turns to Louis and Niall can feel the bitter and livid edges of Harry’s rage, can feel the way he’s trying to keep it locked up and from bleeding all over them. It’s not working and he can’t help it. It’s too much to keep in. Niall sits up, but he already knows that there isn’t anything he can do.

If Niall can feel Harry’s anger pushing at him and crawling under his skin, it’s worse for Louis. Harry’s pushes feel like they’re shoving at Niall, like he’s in a crowd and he’s being swarmed and everyone is trying to move him. With Louis’ echoes it will be worse. A loop of Louis feeling the echo and the push all at once. It’s probably more like being trampled by the crowd instead of just shoved by it.

“You don’t get to do that.”

“What? I can’t call you out on lying to our fucking faces?”

Harry stands and Niall twists his hands in the sheets so he doesn’t move.

“Not now. Not with your… echoes. Whatever you’re calling it.”

Louis rolls his eyes, looking out the window and trying very hard and very obviously to not look at Harry. 

“Don’t need that to know when you’re lying through your teeth. Stop being such a fucking martyr.”

Harry’s anger feels like something alive, something twisting up in his belly and too big to contain. Niall hates it. He wonders how long he’s felt like this, how tightly he’s kept it locked up. He doesn’t know how Louis is still standing defiant under the brunt of it. It feels like there’s something burning under Niall’s skin, itchy in a way that’s different from when he’s about to panic or starting to have a flash.

“It’s none of your business,” Harry snaps. He’s throwing the words at Louis, trying to make each one hurt with just the tone of his voice.

Louis scoffs and Niall looks to Liam. His eyes are wide and pale and he looks small in a way that Liam doesn’t usually look small. Niall feels like he’s being battered by Harry’s anger from the inside out. It’s like he’s swallowed something too hot and can feel it burning all the way down, but instead of cooling it’s just getting hotter. It’s like swimming in the ocean and the waves keep crashing over his head every time he tries to breathe. 

“You don’t get to choose what I decide to share and what I don’t. That’s not how this  _ works.” _

“Oh? And how is it meant to  _ work _ ?”

“You tell me,” Harry says and it’s condescending and harsh around every edge and sounds like he’s ripping the words out of his throat. “You said we were going to fix this. We haven’t done anything. We’ve sat in a room and tried to write a few lines of a song that probably won’t go anywhere anyway. So you tell me: how the fuck is this supposed to work?”

“Maybe some fucking commitment _ ,  _ for once,” Louis replies, still sounding too casual. It’s like Harry and Louis have swapped places - Harry ready to scream from being angry and hurt next to Louis acting unaffected. “How are we supposed to work anything out when you don’t stay long enough for a fucking conversation? Should have known. Always someplace better to be, isn’t there?”

Harry goes still. 

He goes still and Louis’ eyes flash with a fear that is entirely his own. The whole room pulses with the dark look on Harry’s face. It’s not anger anymore. It’s darker. Deeper and older, like a cut that he’s picked at and hasn’t healed. A scar that’s never had a chance to close up the right way. 

Then it disappears. It all vanishes and the whole room feels still and empty.

All the fight has bled out of Louis, every line of his body lax and regret has immediately etched itself into the lines around his eyes. 

“I didn’t - “ Louis tries to say, but his voice is soft and scared.

“You still think that? You still think I  _ make  _ people - “

“Harry - “

“ - want to be close to me?” Harry continues, talking over Louis. “You still think I cut and run as soon as it’s not easy anymore?”

“ _ No,  _ that’s not - “

_ “Shut up!”  _ Harry shouts and at first Niall doesn’t realise that the sharp pain behind his breastbone doesn’t belong to him. It’s Harry’s hurt, sharp and hot around the edges. “You’re always putting words in my mouth. Let me  _ say  _ something.”

Louis doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t move a muscle. Niall can’t remember the last time he saw Louis so still when someone was shouting at him. Probably not since back on the X Factor. Niall expects Louis to flinch at Harry’s words or start shouting again. He expects him to react somehow. 

He doesn’t move. He keeps his head down and he doesn’t move at all. 

“It’s not about you,” Harry’s voice is lower now, but it sounds just as dangerous. Just as angry. Only softer than before. ”Just because I want to spend time with someone else, just because I need to be away from everyone for a bit doesn’t mean I don’t want to be here at all.”

“I know that,” Louis says and his voice low and quiet, but still firm. 

“Do you? You still blame me for - how’d you put it? -  _ fucking off when it’s not fun anymore.  _ No one can live up to your standards. No wonder Zayn won’t talk to - “

_ “Harry,”  _ Liam interrupts.

Harry’s nostrils flare, but he shuts his mouth. It doesn’t help. Niall can feel the way his anger is still under his skin and filling the air with something like static. 

“It’s fine, Liam. Not like he’s wrong.” Louis sounds stiff, angry and upset and trying to hold it all back. But over all of that, he just sounds tired.

Niall goes cold all over and it has nothing to do with how Harry’s emotions are bleeding all over them. He can feel the dread slide down his spine like ice. He remembers Louis calling him when he was out at the pub and the way the guilt made his voice softer, the way the sadness sounded heavy when they sat together on Niall’s sofa, the way he sounded desperate pressed beside him at Glasto.

“That what you wanted to hear? You’re right. I’m still mad. I'm mad at you and I’m mad at everyone who put us under a fucking microscope. But I’m  _ furious _ with myself because I fucked it all up. I fucked it up with you and I fucked it up with Eleanor and I fucked everything up with Zayn. It’s only a matter of time until I fuck up the rest, isn’t it?”

“Louis - “ Niall tries to interrupt, but Louis doesn’t look away from Harry. Harry’s anger is still pulsing under his skin, hot and itchy and not letting up a bit. Niall can feel the sharp prickling of his hurt high in his chest. Harry’s anger is making Niall’s stomach burn, but the hurt sits higher. Niall can feel Harry’s guilt filling up his head like cotton. He’s guilty, but not for what he said. Just that he said it at all.

“Don’t say you didn’t mean it,” Louis snaps, sounding harsher than before. “I know you did. We  _ all  _ know you did. I can feel it. You aren’t sorry, so don’t pull that patronising bullshit with me.”

“Who’s being the martyr now? This isn’t - “

“You wanted to have it out. I’m not going to sit here and let you shout out years of - “

“”You said you wanted to fix this.” 

“I’m fucking trying!” Louis shouts back, finally snapping. “You still don’t fucking get it!”

“There isn’t anything to get,” Harry snaps right back.

Niall wants to jump between them. Louis hasn’t moved, but his entire posture has changed. Niall wants to drag them away from each other and make them stop. 

But this isn’t his fight. As much as he wants to fix it for them, he can’t.

Liam steps forward, steps between them. He’s closer to Harry and puts a hand on his shoulder. Niall can tell that the touch is gentle, but he’s gripping tight.

“Boys, c’mon. Let’s step back. Take a breath, all right?”

Louis’ eyes are sharp and trained on Harry. Harry flexes his hands and can’t seem to stop his face from contorting with anger, can’t keep the frustration off his face. He shakes off Liam’s hand and turns around. His shoulders and back are tight and make him seem twice as big as he really is.

He doesn’t say anything. Harry turns to walk away and doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t need to.

Niall can feel him pushing at them. He can feel every bit of frustration and anger and hurt simmering under his own skin and it makes his head ache. Harry’s pushing so hard it has to be on purpose, and Louis has gone stiff all over.  

“Jesus  _ Christ,”  _ Louis swears. “Will you knock that off?”

Harry stops, back still to them all. The pushes don’t stop. If anything, they get more pointed than before. More focused. Niall’s even more sure that Harry’s doing it on purpose. It’s not the same as before. This isn’t just overflow, this is Harry  _ pushing _ . 

It’s like Niall knows exactly what Harry wants to say. He’s stopping himself from saying it, but Niall knows that he wants to say it anyway. It feels like  _ nothing was going to fix this anyway  _ and  _ what’s the point  _ and Niall hates it. 

He was so stupid. He thought Harry and Louis were close to fixing this. He should have known it wouldn’t be so easy.

“Fucking  _ hell, _ just  _ quit it. _ Do you actually  _ want  _ to fix anything? What do you want me to  _ say?  _ What will be good enough for you?”

“I don’t want you to say anything!” Harry spins around and it feels like everything in the room shakes. “You think I don’t get it? I know I ran away, I know I was a shit friend. I was just a kid! I didn’t know what to do.”

“Neither did I! You were my best fucking friend and you kept disappearing. You wouldn’t even try. Just up and ran like it was the easiest thing in the world.”

Niall can feel his chest going tight. His heart is pounding against his fingertips and his throat and he feels like he can’t breathe right. 

Harry shakes his head and Niall can’t remember the last time he saw Harry let himself be this angry. 

“It wasn’t easy. It was the  _ worst.  _ I just needed space. Everyone was always  _ looking _ at us and talking about us - I just needed space. I needed room to myself. Then you never looked my way again. Acted like we were strangers. I couldn’t have done anything if I tried.”

“Didn’t try very hard, did you? I’m not the only one who - “

“You wanted to prove them wrong,” Harry says, his voice low now. He doesn’t sound any less furious, but he sounds calmer than before. “You wouldn’t say anything about it, but you’d act different around me anyway. You’d say everything was _fine_ and then you’d move away if I got too close, even if we were alone. You never wanted to talk about it.”

“That’s  _ bullshit,”  _ Louis scoffs. “It made me fucking  _ furious,  _  of  _ course  _ I talked about it.”

“Shouting about your Twitter mentions isn’t the same as talking about it. You only ever talked about how you wanted to get them to stop or how you wanted to prove them wrong. I couldn’t do that. I  _ couldn’t,  _ but you didn’t care.”

“You mean you  _ wouldn’t,”  _ Louis spits and he sounds even angrier. Niall isn’t sure if it’s just an illusion because Harry sounds so much calmer or not. “You just kept  _ leaving.  _ We could have figured something out if you had just stuck around.”

“You never said that! You acted like there was nothing to fix unless we were in the middle of a fight and even then it was always something that was my fault! Why would I have wanted to stick around? You were always so fucking  _ angry  _ and you didn’t give a shit that it made everything worse. It  _ hurt  _ to be around you.”

Louis goes still. Niall sees the way he keeps his face blank so Harry won’t know how much that affected him. He hates how Harry and Louis fight like it’s something they need to win. 

“Almost forgot about that one,” Louis says with a scoff, completely failing to hide how obviously he didn’t forget. “Guess you had to leave, didn’t you? Didn’t want me to keep  _ suffocating  _ you, was it?”

Harry takes a step forward and Niall can tell from Louis’ tone that they’re quoting each other. He’s afraid it will actually come to blows. Harry’s face is scrunched up and twitching and Louis’ chin is tilted and haughty. They’re both red in the face and stiff-backed. Niall slides to the edge of the bed, ready to to interfere. This isn’t his fight, it  _ isn’t,  _ but it’s going too far. He has to do  _ something -  _

Liam makes a soft choking noise. All three of them turn, the static and pulsing anger in the room falling flat and the silence swallowing everything up. Everything has pulled to a stop too fast and Niall can almost hear the screech of brakes in his head.

Liam’s eyes are glassy and his face has gone pale and slack. Niall knows. He just  _ knows _ even though he’s never been able to pinpoint what it looks like when it’s happened to him.

He knows that Liam is having a flash. 

Louis is in front of Liam in an instant. He grabs at Liam’s shoulders and he sags against Louis. Niall drifts closer, shoulder to shoulder with Harry. Niall doesn’t know if the fear choking up his throat is Harry’s or his own. 

“Hey, Payno,” Louis says, keeping his voice low and soft. He’s using the same voice he’s used when Niall has been too anxious to think straight. “Let’s sit you down, yeah?”

Louis tries to steer him to a chair, but Liam grips Louis’ elbows and freezes so Louis can’t move him. Niall tries not to jump forward. He doesn’t want to overwhelm Liam, but seeing his eyes so wide and scared - 

“I keep seeing him,” Liam says and his voice cracks. That more than anything makes Niall’s heart jump. Liam’s voice doesn’t crack like that, not unless he’s been pushing himself too hard. He doesn’t sound like this when he’s upset. It’s never a good thing, but Niall doesn’t know if he has ever heard Liam let himself sound so devastated before. 

“I should be able to do something. I keep seeing him and you and Harry and - “

“Liam,” Louis interrupts and his voice is still gentle, but there isn’t room for argument. “Stop. None of that’s up to you to fix.”

Liam’s eyes are big and wide and full of panic and guilt. Niall doesn’t think he could say anything if he tried. Not when Liam is looking at them like the world is falling apart around them because he couldn’t hold it together himself. 

“I keep seeing it, though. I see him and I feel how much he hated it and I could  _ fix  _ it. I could do  _ something _ to help, but it won’t let me. I can’t do anything. I can’t do anything then and I can’t do anything now - “

Louis reaches up to touch Liam’s face and stops him mid-sentence. He presses his palm against Liam’s cheek and Liam closes his eyes. He lets out a breath that makes his chest jump and shudder and Niall can feel his breath hitching the same way. 

They stay just like that for so long that Niall’s hands start to shake. Liam keeps his eyes closed and Louis doesn’t move his hand except for the thumb on Liam’s cheekbone, right next to his eye. He rubs his thumb against Liam’s skin softly. Niall’s hands are shaking, his head feels too light and too heavy all at once. He can feel how tight his chest is now, how hard it is to breathe easy. He’s going to have a flash or a panic attack and he’s not sure which and he  _ can’t _ . Not right now. He has to keep himself together.

He reaches over and grabs Harry’s hand. He’s half afraid Harry will move away, that the fight will still be too close to the surface and Harry doesn’t want to be close to any of them right now. He’s terrified Harry will move away. 

He doesn’t. Harry squeezes his fingers and Niall focuses on how if he holds onto Harry’s hand tight enough, he can convince himself that his hands aren’t shaking. He thinks about all those months ago when they were in the back of a car and leaning against each other, scared and nervous and missing Zayn too much to really verbalize.

“I could have done more.” Liam’s voice is small and it shakes and wavers and Niall can’t swallow properly. “I could have helped. He didn’t have to leave, I could have - “

“There’s nothing else we could have done,” Louis interrupts. Liam shakes his head, tries to look away, but Louis won’t let him. He uses the hand still on Liam’s cheek to make him look up. “We did what we could.”

“Did we?” Liam asks, voice cracking. “He hated it, he felt trapped and alone and we just kept writing what we wanted and we were more worried about the album than about Zayn and we could have  _ done  _ something, we could have - “

“I know. I  _ know _ , Li, all right?” 

Liam looks at Louis and his eyes are red. Niall grips Harry’s hand tight. His head still feels too light and it’s harder to breathe and Niall’s afraid that he’ll have a flash too. 

“Maybe we could have done more,” Louis says softly. “But even if we had, would it have helped? There wasn’t anything we really could have done, Li. Anything we could have done would just be another band-aid, like writing solos we knew he’d like. It wouldn’t have made him stay.”

“There has to have been  _ something - “ _

“There’s nothing we could have done to stop him from going,” Louis says firmly. If Niall couldn’t hear the way his voice trembled, he might have thought he was being too harsh. But Niall hears his voice shake and hears the way it hurts him to say it. 

Liam closes his eyes again and bends his head so his chin touches his chest. He’s shaking and Niall can feel his hands shake the same way. 

“I could’ve done something, though,” Liam says, voice hoarse. “I could have written with him more, could have made something work. I could have fixed it, but I didn’t do anything.”

Louis doesn’t reply and Niall doesn’t know what they are going to do. It feels like they’re unravelling. Everything they’ve done that had started to piece them back together is falling apart. 

Zayn left and it’s like they somehow turned into a skein of yarn that someone pulled the wrong way. They keep trying to gather up the loose ends and wrap them up in a ball, make themselves into something new and the same all at once, but every time they start to get somewhere the ball of yarn rolls across the floor again. They just keep getting more tangled and Niall doesn’t know how they can work it out.

“Enough of that,” Louis says, voice still wavering even while he tries to sound determined. “You haven’t ruined anything.”

“Feels like it,” Liam replies and his cheeks are red.

“Well, you haven’t. Not with Zayn and not with us. He’d pick up if you called. I’m the only one he might not talk to of us and that’s my own fault.”

“You don’t know that he’d answer.”

“I do.” Louis’ voice wavers even more than before. “He’d talk to you, Li. He wouldn’t blame you for anything.”

“Doesn’t mean it isn’t my fault anyway.”

Louis is quiet for a moment and he shifts so that he’s leaning even more into Liam’s space. Liam’s head is still bowed and Louis is looking straight at him. Their foreheads are almost touching and Niall’s breath catches in his throat.

“Maybe it is our faults. Maybe we could have done more. But we can’t change it now. Can’t let it eat us up either, yeah?”

His voice is still shaky and Niall wishes he couldn’t hear the way they are both so close to tears. It makes his skin feel tight and his eyes sting. 

“I mean it,” Louis repeats, sounding firmer than before and closer to breaking all at once. “He left. He left and maybe it was because of us. But we can’t change it.”

“What use is this if I can’t change anything?” Liam asks, and he’s crying. “Why do I see any of this if I can’t fix it?”

“I don’t know, love,” Louis replies, voice just as rough as Liam’s. “Don’t know why I get echoes of what everyone else feels if I can’t do anything about it either. Maybe it’s not to do anything at all. Maybe it’s just so we know.”

“I don’t like it.”

Louis laughs and it’s thin and soft, but his smile is bright. “I know. I know you don’t.”

There’s a moment of quiet. Liam and Louis are still bent close together, Louis’ hand on Liam’s neck and Liam clinging to Louis’ arms. Harry’s hand is warm around Niall’s and his fingers feel stiff and numb from holding on so tight. 

“Sorry,” Liam mutters, eyes closed and head drooping even further towards Louis. 

“For what? Got nothing you need to apologise to us for.”

“Sorry for… all that. Was trying to keep it together for you boys. Don’t need me falling to pieces on you.”

Niall frowns and Louis opens his mouth to say something, but Harry beats them to it.

“Liam?” 

Niall’s heart jumps and his fingers tense around Harry’s before he can stop it. It feels like intruding, like all of this was just between Liam and Louis. He wants to tell Harry to let Louis handle it, but Louis turns to glance at them. His eyes are fixed on Harry and his gaze is careful and wary, but he doesn’t say anything. Just leans back a bit so Liam can look up.

“Yeah?”

“Can I show you something?”

Liam frowns, but Niall thinks he knows what Harry means. Louis is still looking at Harry carefully and his cheeks are bright red. Niall wishes he was close enough that he could hold Louis’ hand too. 

Harry holds out his free hand and takes a step closer. He doesn’t let go of Niall’s hand and Niall’s grateful. He isn’t sure what would happen if he didn’t have Harry to cling to. 

Liam still looks confused, but he takes Harry’s hand anyway. Their hands stretch out between them, neither of them moving any closer and having to reach so that they can touch. 

Niall is still clutching Harry’s hand and he can feel exactly what Harry is doing. 

Harry is pushing what he feels at Liam, but Niall can feel it too. Louis’ shoulders are tight and his knuckles are white against Liam’s shoulder and Niall knows that Harry is bleeding his emotions all over the three of them. 

Niall doesn’t know what to do with the emotions Harry is pushing at them. He can feel what Harry is feeling, but at the same time he knows how he  _ should _ be feeling. He should still feel anxious and tense and like he could blink and suddenly be somewhere else.

But he doesn’t feel any of that.

All he can feel is Harry. Harry’s worry in the back of his head and fluttering at the back of his neck. Harry’s fear and anger tangled up into one messy knot in his belly. Harry’s warmth and  _ love _ . Harry’s love is filling him up and smoothing over everything else, making everything else seem small and unimportant. 

Liam stumbles and pitches forward into Louis’ arms. He catches himself and Louis catches him, but he’s wrapped around Louis and he’s shaking. Louis holds Liam up and Harry is stretched between them all, one hand still wrapped around Liam and the other around Niall’s fingers. If Harry wasn’t pushing so much love at them, Niall’s not sure if they could stand any of this.

Louis turns his head just enough to look at Harry. Niall is holding onto Harry’s hand so tight that he can feel his pulse pounding against Harry’s skin. Louis doesn’t look angry, not like he did when Harry and Louis were fighting just a few minutes ago, but his look is careful in a calculated way.

The moment stretches out and then Louis moves. He keeps one arm wrapped tight around Liam and uses the other to latch onto Harry’s wrist and  _ pull.  _

Harry and Niall both stumble forward. Harry lets go of Liam’s hand and it’s somehow instinct for them to circle around Liam. Harry’s hand slips out of Niall’s and moves to wrap around Niall’s waist, fingers tight on Liam’s ribs and warm against Niall’s belly while he wraps around Liam’s other side. Niall grips Louis’ shoulder tight, needing a hand on all three of them. Needing to anchor himself on all three of them.

“We love you, Liam,” Harry says, face pressed against Liam’s hair. 

Liam presses his face against Louis’ shoulder and Niall leans forward to kiss the side of his head. He feels useless, standing here and not able to do anything. He doesn’t know exactly what Liam is feeling like Louis and he can’t show Liam how important he is like Harry. He’s just…. there. 

“Harry,” Louis says carefully, voice low and a little muffled. 

There’s a pause. It feels drawn out and too long and Niall’s afraid that they’ll go straight back into an argument. 

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry. Shouldn’t.. you’re right. I said I wanted to fix it and I haven’t. I’m just - “

Louis cuts himself off and Niall can’t quite see him, not around Liam’s head, but he can feel the way he breathes deeply. Can hear the way he’s careful about choosing what to say.

“I’m scared. To talk about it all. I’m just… I’m scared.”

There’s another pause and it’s longer, but softer. 

“Me too.”

Niall lets out a long breath. He feels like he can breathe again. He closes his eyes and presses his forehead against Liam’s shoulder and just  _ breathes.  _ Louis and Harry don’t say anything else, but Niall’s not sure if they need to. Not with Harry’s pushes and Louis’ echoes. 

He opens his eyes and everything goes blurry. He’s slipping into a flash faster than he can try to stop it, but it’s different. Everything stays blurry and indistinct. He can hear voices that don’t belong in the hotel room, but he can’t make them out. It’s like he’s listening with his hands pressed over his ears. 

It should be terrifying. Nothing like this has ever happened before. But he isn’t afraid. None of it matters because he can still feel Louis’ shirt in his hand. Damp and too big and in the  _ present.  _ Not in a flash.

He blinks and he’s still wrapped around the boys. He can’t remember anything about the flash. Not where he was or what he heard or how he might have felt. All he can remember is Louis.  _ This  _ Louis. The one holding up Liam and staring at Harry with his arm pressed against Niall’s chest. 

Maybe they’ll always be unravelling. Maybe they’ll keep coming back to this.

But maybe it doesn’t matter. Even if they end up right back here again in a few weeks, they’ll pull themselves back together again.

Niall’s not sure if that should feel as comforting as it does. But it helps. They’ll pick themselves back up and start over again. It’s all they can do.

 

* * *

 

Niall wishes they had the foresight to wait and have their collective emotional breakdowns on a better night. He only got about two hours of sleep and knows the rest of the boys didn’t do much better than that. They were in the studio last night and now they have a full day in it as well. 

He’s exhausted and feels like he can’t even see straight. He keeps sneaking off to catch a few seconds of sleep whenever he can. He’s already caught Harry in a dead sleep four different times already. Once he was standing up and draped over Liam. If Niall wasn’t so jealous, he’d be impressed. 

He just can’t seem to actually fall asleep. Even when he finds a quiet enough corner, he can’t make his brain go quiet enough to let him fall asleep. 

When Julian finally lets him out of the booth so they can get Liam to record a few things, he leaves to find someplace quiet. He thinks he knows what he has to do to get his brain to shut up. It’s a terrible idea, but he’s too tired to really care.

He passes Louis on a sofa in the lounge, curled up small with his hood pulled up. Preston is sitting nearby, keeping an eye out on people passing. It’s a terrible place for Louis to nap if he doesn’t want photos to pop up everywhere, but Louis is more particular about sleeping than the rest of them. 

He ends up in a back stairwell. It’s too bright and open and his footsteps echo against the rubber coating the steps, but it’s quiet and empty. 

He sits and pulls out his phone. He knows that calling Zayn is a terrible idea. He’s exhausted and missing him more than usual because of what day it is and that all feels closer to the surface because of last night. It’s a terrible time to call Zayn. He shouldn’t try it at all, should go find Louis and curl up with him on the sofa or find out where Harry’s disappeared to. He  _ shouldn’t _ call Zayn.

_ you free? _

He sends the text first. He’s not sure if he needs to or not, but he wants to give Zayn a chance to say no if he needs to. If he expects Zayn to text him before calling he can do the same.

He waits. Niall tells himself that if Zayn doesn’t reply, he won’t call. He probably won’t reply. Zayn’s always been awful at texting. He won’t reply or he will and it will be a few days from now and Niall won’t have to worry about if he’s being stupid or not. 

His phone buzzes. Niall’s starting to think that Zayn’s answering so quick to spite him, knows that Niall won’t be expecting it.

_ yeah whats up _

Niall takes a deep breath, types out  _ can we talk  _ and hits send before he can think too hard. 

His phone starts ringing as soon as his message gets the little blue read receipt. It feels so strange for Zayn to be so available so quick. 

“Hi,” Niall says softly, too aware of how his voice echoes in the stairwell.

“Hey, babe,” Zayn replies, voice just as soft. “You all right?”

“Yeah, just…” Niall sighs and pulls at his hair a bit. “Miss you, is all. We have proper studio time today and it being  _ today _ and all… just missing you more, I guess.”

Zayn hums and Niall realises he doesn’t know if he’s back home or in LA. He wishes Zayn was right there with him just so they could be next to each other. He realises that he hasn’t really talked so candidly about how much he misses Zayn  _ with  _ Zayn. It hits him all at once that he has only really spoken to Zayn twice in almost four months. He doesn’t know if they’ve ever gone that long without talking. 

“Don’t know, today just feels like a lot. One of those days, you know? Lou and Harry had it out last night and Liam had a… thing. M’just tired. Sorry.”

Zayn doesn’t reply right away, but Niall didn’t expect him to. He closes his eyes and keeps the phone pressed to his ear. He wishes he wasn’t so tired, wishes that all of the  _ I miss you’s  _ weren’t so close to the surface.

“Everyone all right?” Zayn finally asks, his voice a little bit too even. Niall’s surprised he said anything at all.

“Yeah, I think so. For now, at least.”

They’re both quiet and Niall wishes this was easier. It’s useless and stupid and he wishes the same thing every time he talks to Zayn or thinks about Zayn, but he can’t help it. He doesn’t know how to still be friends with Zayn when they’re so far away. 

Niall doesn’t know how he and Zayn fit together anymore. He doesn’t know how they’re supposed to talk when he isn’t sitting next to Zayn and able to tell if he really means what he’s saying or not. Before, a conversation like this would have been easy. Zayn’s shoulder would be pressed against his and the silences wouldn’t feel quite so stilted. 

But Zayn isn’t here and Niall doesn’t know how he’s even supposed to ask  _ how are you, what have you been doing, can I tell you about what I’ve been doing yet or is it still too much? _ He doesn’t know if he’s ready to hear the answers even if he  _ could  _ ask. 

“How’s recording?” Zayn asks and Niall knows it’s mostly to break the silence. At least now he can tell that this is as hard for Zayn to navigate as it is for him. The other times he’s called Zayn, it felt like he was the only one who couldn’t quite cope. 

“All right. Same as always, you know?”

Zayn hums and they fall into silence again and it’s like each one gets stretched further and further. Each one feels bigger and harder to sit through than the last. 

“Listen,” Zayn starts, and Niall can feel his shoulders tense up before he can help it. “I wasn’t gonna say anything, but… well. You should probably know. Didn’t know how to just up and tell you, but…”

“What is it?”

“I, uh…. I’m signing with RCA. Deal’ll be through by next week, they think.”

Niall wishes that it didn’t make his throat go tight the way it does. He knew it was only a matter of time. Zayn just said a few minutes ago that he’s been writing. It shouldn’t feel like a surprise.

Somehow, it is anyway. 

“That’s… that’s great.” Niall knows it doesn’t sound genuine. He doesn’t know how to say what he wants to. He doesn’t know how to say  _ I’m happy for you but this hurts  _ or  _ I thought it was the stress more than anything  _ or  _ why didn’t you tell us it was because of the music sooner? _ He doesn’t know how to say any of it, knows that it wouldn’t matter. 

They all knew. They all knew this is where they’d end up eventually. They just managed to convince themselves it wouldn’t happen. If they ignored it that it would just… go away. 

They were so fucking stupid.

“Don’t have to lie to me. Just thought I should say something since you called and all.”

“I’m not lying. It’s great. It is. It just… sorry.”

Zayn is quiet and Niall has to shut his eyes. He’s just so  _ tired.  _ This was a stupid idea. He should have woken Louis up instead, grabbed Liam while Harry was in the booth so that he didn’t decide calling Zayn after everything that happened last night was the only thing he could do.

He keeps managing to convince himself that it will be better. That it won’t feel like there are too many pieces to pick up or that there’s too much unravelled to ever wind up tight again. 

“You remember what you asked? When you called before?”

Niall frowns and shakes his head. “No. No, I don’t. What - “

“You wanted to tell me about the shows, yeah?”

Niall freezes. 

“If you still want to do that, think I’m ready to listen. If you want.”

He’s suddenly glad he’s alone in a stairwell and that Zayn isn’t right next to him. He feels embarrassed and stupid and his eyes sting. The last thing he wants to do is cry alone sitting on some stairs talking to Zayn, but he can’t help it.

“Yeah,” Niall replies, trying not to let his voice sound choked. He’s not quite sure if he manages it. “I want to. Probably another day, though. They’ll want me back soon.”

“Sure, babe. Talk to you later.”

Niall’s mouth feels too dry and he doesn’t know what to say, but he knows he doesn’t want to hang up yet. 

“Zayn?”

“Yeah?”

Niall bites his tongue. He feels so useless, just sitting in an empty stairwell. He feels like he’s choking on all the words he doesn’t know how to say. He wants to tell Zayn how much they miss him, wants to say  _ we’re falling apart without but it’s making us stronger too. _ He wants to tell Zayn about everything that happened last night. He wants to tell Zayn about the flashes.

He just doesn’t know how to say any of it.

“Have you talked to Liam at all?” Niall asks instead.

“Not really. Haven’t talked to any of them but you, really.”

Niall bites lifts his hand and bites at his thumbnail. He guessed as much, but he thought Liam would have tried to talk to Zayn. He supposes he shouldn’t be surprised after everything Liam told them last night.

“Could you?”

“Is he all right?”

Niall sighs. It’s always been hard, trying to figure out when it was okay to intercede between the five of them and when it wasn’t. It’s hard to keep track of what’s free to share and what isn’t. It’s harder now. Zayn left and he’s on the other side of the world half the time and Niall doesn’t know what should stay between the four of them and what’s okay for Zayn to know anymore. There’s too much hurt and Niall doesn’t know which hurts are too sharp and which ones need the bandaid ripped off.

“Yeah,” Niall finally replies. “Just think it’d do him good. You know how he gets.”

“Niall - “

“I get why you won’t talk to Lou. I even get why you aren’t talking to Harry. You’re all so fucking stubborn. But Liam’s different, yeah? I think he needs to hear from you and he doesn’t want to push.”

“So that means I’ve got to?” 

Zayn sounds angry and frustrated and Niall wishes he knew how to stop turning their phone calls into fights. It’s just that Zayn is so  _ fucking  _ stubborn. Even over shit that would be good for him. If it’s not his idea, half the time he’ll fight against it just because he can.

“You’re the one that left.”

Niall keeps his voice as even and as soft as he can, but even then it echoes in the stairwell. He’s not accusing Zayn of anything and he doesn’t want Zayn to take it like he’s attacking him. It’s just a fact.

“Don’t get mad at me, all right? I’m just saying it. You left. Half the time it feels like you never wanted to be here at all. It’s hard to pick up a phone when we’re not sure if you’d even answer.”

Zayn doesn’t answer and Niall has to resist the urge to look at his phone and make sure he didn’t hang up. He knows Zayn wouldn’t do that, but the quiet feels so thick that he’s scared of it anyway. It’s hard to know how Zayn will react to criticism. Niall was never the one who had to handle that before. He doesn’t know how to handle it now.

“That’s not fair,” Zayn finally says, voice just as soft as Niall’s. “I shouldn’t have to do all the work here.”

“I know. I know, okay? I’m not asking you to. Just… you have to be the one to open the door, you know?”

“You called me first. Don’t see why they can’t do the same.”

Niall scoffs. “I only called because I was fucking furious at you. I was mad and I didn’t expect you to pick up at all.”

Zayn is quiet. Niall knows he’s angry. But Niall knows he’s right. It may not be fair, but it’s true anyway. None of them feel like they can talk to Zayn. They need him to take the first step. Maybe it’s unfair, but it’s  _ true. _

“I’m sorry,” Niall says softly enough that it doesn’t echo. “We should’ve done more for you and we didn’t.”

“You don’t have anything to apologise for,” Zayn snaps.

“Don’t we?”

The line turns to static when Zayn sighs. “Not for that. I didn’t want anyone to know how bad it was. Didn’t want to talk about it. You boys did your best, yeah? I know that.”

“Okay,” Niall replies, mostly because he doesn’t know what else to say. He didn’t know that’s how Zayn felt. He figured it was clear that Zayn held them at least partly responsible.

“I was mad. Still am, most days. But not because of that. More because of everything else.”

“Think Liam could do with hearing some of that.”

Zayn huffs out a laugh. Niall misses him so much the empty stairwell feels emptier than before, somehow. Like there’s more space than there was before.

“All right, all right. I’ll talk to him. Happy?”

“Peachy,” Niall replies, still feeling stunned. “I really have to go, though. Don’t want them sending out a search party or something.”

“Sing pretty. And, like, give my luck to the boys. If they’ll have it.”

Niall bites his thumbnail and nods to himself. “Love you,” he says, even though he knows how wobbly his voice sounds. He’s just so  _ tired. _

“Love you too. Get some sleep soon, yeah?”

“Yeah. Bye.”

“Bye, babe.”

Niall swallows and the line clicks. He closes his eyes and just tries to breathe. Every call with Zayn has left him feeling empty and off-balance. Like gravity has shifted in the time it took to talk to him. He still feels that way, but he feels  _ relieved  _ too. He feels embarrassingly close to tears, tries to hold them back because he knows he won’t be able to sing if he ends up crying.

He stays in the stairwell a while longer. Right up until he hears a door somewhere below him open. The sound bounces off the walls and he finally gets up and heads back towards the studio.

Louis isn’t on the sofa anymore, but it isn’t empty. Harry is stretched out, legs hanging off the side and arm thrown over his face. He looks ridiculous and Niall wishes he could be less endeared by it. He doesn’t know how Harry manages to contort himself about like that. 

Niall taps on his legs and Harry lifts his arm to look at him with one eye. Instead of just lifting his legs up so Niall could sit, he twists around so that he can prop his legs up on the table. He’s still taking up most of the sofa and Niall rolls his eyes. 

“Gonna fuck up your back like that,” Niall says, settling onto the sofa next to him. 

“Too tired. Don’t care.”

Niall shakes his head and tugs on Harry’s sleeve until he sits up. He keeps pulling until Harry isn’t contorting himself across half the sofa. Niall shifts so that Harry can prop his head against his shoulder and Harry fidgets and moves too much in an effort to get comfortable, but eventually he finally goes still. His temple is pressed against Niall’s shoulder and Niall breathes carefully so he doesn’t accidentally hit Harry in the eye.

“Where’d you go?”

There’s a hole in the knee of Harry’s trousers and Niall pokes at it. Harry’s leg twitches, but he doesn’t move away. 

“Called Zayn.”

Harry doesn’t move. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to. The way he’s gone still says enough. 

Niall knows that as complicated as he feels about Zayn now, it’s not the same for Harry. Niall constantly feels confused and hurt and sad when he thinks about Zayn. There are days when he doesn’t think about Zayn at all and there are days like today when he can’t help but reach out even though he knows it’ll hurt. 

It’s different for Harry.

If there is one thing Niall has learned over the years, it’s how hard Harry’s had to fight for his privacy. They all have, really, but it’s been hardest on Harry. 

Niall knows that Harry doesn’t want to take Zayn leaving personally. He wants to keep it all separate. Zayn left the band and that’s different from him leaving  _ them.  _ One is something to deal with as their job and the other is something… else. 

But it isn’t that easy. They’ve always been too tangled up in each other to separate themselves like that. Niall knows that has to be frustrating for Harry. 

“He said he’s signing with RCA,” Niall says quietly. He doesn’t want the boys to be surprised by it. He wonders if Zayn would have mentioned it before the news broke if Niall hadn’t called. Would he have texted or just let them find out from Twitter? Niall wishes he knew.

Harry’s quiet and Niall doesn’t know what else to say. He doesn’t know if he should say anything at all or if he should just shut up. He’s so tired that his eyes are burning. All he wants to do is lean back and sleep. Go back to the hotel and actually use his room and his bed. He wants to fly home to London or Mullingar and sleep in a bed that actually belongs to him.

“You going to tell the boys?” Harry asks, voice purposefully even.

“What, you think I shouldn’t?”

Harry shrugs and his shoulder jabs against Niall’s bicep. “Louis won’t be happy.”

“What, and you are?”

Harry sighs and it’s loud in the quiet of the lobby. “Guess not. Just feels…”

“Yeah. I know.”

They all knew that this was going to happen. It’s why he left. Maybe he didn’t say it at first, but that’s why he really left in the end. It was only a matter of time before he signed with someone.

It still hurts now that it’s actually happening. It still feels like it’s come on too fast even though it’s been months.

They sit like that for a bit. Niall isn’t quite sure what to say. He feels like he’s still trying to wrap his head around everything Zayn said. He wants to talk it out, but he doesn’t know how. He doesn’t know if he can or if Harry’s the right person to talk it out  _ with.  _ He doesn’t know who would be the right person.

“Hey, Niall?” Niall turns towards Harry and almost ends up with a mouthful of hair. “Can I ask you something weird?”

“Don’t need to ask, H. Just go for it.”

Harry fidgets against his side and Niall elbows him a bit to try and get him to sit still. “This is a serious kind of weird, is all.”

Niall waits a moment and when Harry doesn’t continue, he says, “Go ahead. Can’t be that weird. Not after the last few days we’ve had.”

Harry goes quiet and Niall wishes he hadn’t been quite so flippant. He can tell by the kind of quiet that Harry is serious. 

“It’s just… I never thought I was the one who left,” Harry says and his voice is so low that Niall can barely hear him. He can hear people talking distantly down the hall and he almost loses Harry’s voice in the echo of it. “I just never saw it that way. I didn’t know that’s what it felt like to Louis.”

Niall doesn’t know if he’s breathing. He doesn’t know if the world is still spinning or not. He doesn’t know how to handle this conversation. It feels like his skin is crawling and he just wants to get up and  _ move.  _

“I’m not taking sides, if that’s what you’re asking,” Niall says softly, not sure what else to say.

“No, I’m not… I don’t want that. It just… I feel like I’m going to float away sometimes, you know? I know I get caught up in things too quick and I know I get distracted because I get too focused, but I never… it just feels like there’s nothing… I don’t know - permanent, I guess? About me. It feels like there’s nothing permanent about  _ me.” _

Niall frowns. Harry sounds completely serious. He sounds upset, but Niall can’t wrap his head around it. Not when Harry is one of the most constant people in his life. Not when he knows he just needs to call to know Harry would be wherever he needed him to be.

“That’s bullshit.”

It sounds harsher than he means it to, but Harry seems annoyed more on principle than anything else..

“Oh, thanks,” he replies dryly. “Very supportive.”

“That’s not what I mean,” Niall explains. “You like to flit around, yeah? Try out new things and meet new people. So what? You always come back. You’re there if we need you.”

Harry fidgets against Niall’s side again. Niall didn’t have a clue that Harry felt like this. He wonders how long it’s been something Harry has worried about. 

“Harry, I mean it. You don’t need to worry about that, all right? If you ever try and drift too far, we’ll drag you back kicking and screaming if we have to.”

Niall tries not to think about how they couldn’t drag Zayn back. He tries to tell himself it was different even though he’s not sure if it was or not.

Harry nods and presses his cheek against Niall’s sleeve. He’s not convinced. Niall knows he isn’t convinced. Niall’s just not sure if there’s anything he can say that will really help. 

He reaches over to poke at the tattoo on Harry’s wrist. “This should hold you down, yeah? Not a very good anchor if it doesn’t keep you in one spot.”

Harry laughs and it’s the loud, surprised laugh that always makes Niall want to laugh too. It echoes down the hall and Harry reaches over to poke him in the side. Niall tries to shove him away and suddenly they’re wrestling, twisting around on the sofa and trying to keep their hands off each other and laughing too loud.

“All right, boys?”

Niall looks up and has to squint through Harry’s hair. Liam’s looking at them and he’s trying not to smile. Harry grins and Niall shoves him hard enough that he topples to the floor. Harry blinks up at the ceiling and then glares at Niall, forehead all lines and his face comically grumpy. Niall can’t help but laugh.

“Sorry,” Niall says, still laughing and not quite sorry at all.

“They want you again, Harry,” Liam says and Harry groans. He drops his head back against the floor and Niall rolls his eyes. 

“I’m going back to bed,” Harry grumbles. “I’m leaving. Go on without me.”

“If we don’t get to sleep neither do you,” Niall replies, shoving the toe of his shoe into Harry’s side. “I’m not going on if you aren’t.”

“No fair.”

“If it makes you feel better, I think we’re nearly done for the day,” Liam says.

Harry groans again and Liam reaches down to pull him up. Harry glares even when he’s on his feet. Liam smiles and pats his cheek. Harry pulls a face, but Liam just laughs.

Niall shakes his head. Liam’s still laughing when he sits down next to Niall and Harry trudges off towards the studio.

“Where’s Lou?” Niall throws an arm across the back of the couch and behind Liam.

“Still in there. Think he wants to change something about the song he and Haz wrote on.”

“Cutting it close aren’t they?”

Liam shrugs and Niall glances down. He’s got his phone out and Twitter is open and he’s very obviously trying to not look at it. 

“Maybe a bit. Don’t think it was anything big.”

Niall glances over at Liam carefully. He’s still trying to not look at his phone and he’s frowning. It feels like Niall doesn’t even need to ask. After what Liam told them last night and with today being the day that it is, it isn’t hard to figure out what’s got Liam so spacey.

“You going to tweet something?” Niall asks, trying to sound as casual as possible.

Liam frowns and finally looks at his phone. He scrolls a bit, but Niall doesn’t look at it. He keeps his eyes on Liam.

“I can’t get it right. It feels bigger now, I guess? Want to make sure I get it right.”

“I get it, yeah.”

“Can you believe it’s been five years? Doesn’t feel like it’s been that long, does it?”

Niall shifts so his arm presses against Liam’s back. “Can’t believe I’ve not got sick of you lot yet.”

Liam laughs and presses up close to Niall’s side. “You’d never.”

“Eh, we’ll see,” Niall replies lightly. Liam’s right, though. He’ll never get sick of the boys. He’s always going to need them in his life somehow. Even if how they fit changes.

Figuring out how they’ll fit is what’ll be tough. But Niall will make it work. He’s going to make it work with Zayn. He can make it work with the boys too, if it ever comes to that.

“I just - I mean, I’d  _ like - “ _

Niall sighs. “Li, if you want to mention Zayn, you can.”

Liam freezes next to him. Niall doesn’t want to push too much, but he knows that if Liam reaches out it’ll be all right. He figures Liam probably already would have if not for the flashes making him feel guiltier than he needed to. 

“You think he’d be okay with that?” Liam asks, voice quiet. Niall’s not sure why the studio isn’t busier. It almost feels like they’re the only ones here. He would have expected to see someone by now. But there’s no one. Just him and Liam in an open lounge.

“Yeah. I do,” Niall replies easily.

Liam bites his lip and Niall doesn’t know if he should tell Liam he just spoke to Zayn. He doesn’t know how to put everything he’s thinking and feeling into words. He doesn’t know how to say  _ Zayn isn’t mad at us for doing more but I’m still mad _ or  _ Zayn doesn’t seem upset but I’m still hurt.  _ He doesn’t know how to say  _ Zayn can keep it all separate but I don’t know how.  _

He doesn’t think Liam needs to hear any of that. Liam is more upset with himself than he is with Zayn or anyone else. As much as Niall wishes he wasn’t, he’s still mad at Zayn. He’s angry with himself too, but he can’t shake the feeling of being left behind. It keeps sneaking back in and making everything with Zayn feel off-kilter and angry and bitter.

But Liam doesn’t feel that way. Niall  _ knows _ Liam doesn’t feel that way. So he doesn’t say anything.

“You really think it would be all right?”

“You really think it wouldn’t?”

Liam stares down at his phone. He bites his lip and sighs. “Don’t know. Guess not.”

Niall doesn’t want to mention calling Zayn. Not yet. He knew that Harry wouldn’t ask for details, but Liam would. He’d want to know everything they talked about and Niall can’t wrap his own head around it yet.

“It’ll be all right, Payno. He’s not going to mind. If you want to mention him, go for it.”

Liam is still biting his lip, but after a moment he starts to tap at his screen. Niall pulls his arm back so he is elbow to elbow with Liam. He looks over Liam’s shoulder and watches him type out and send the tweet. Niall knows he should write something up too. Harry and Louis already have. He doesn’t know if Zayn will mention it at all. He’s the only one left.

He feels like he’s struggling for words. He doesn’t know how to verbalise everything that he’s feeling. He doesn’t know why he feels different when he looks at Louis or why talking to Zayn still hurts so much even though he wants to be able to move past it all. He doesn’t know how he’s meant to feel about taking a break after the album. 

It’s hard to figure out the right thing to say when he can’t even figure out what he’s really feeling.

“You all right, Nialler?”

Niall blinks and looks up. Liam’s looking at him and it’s all concern and exhaustion blending together. He can’t seem to shake the image of Liam staring at them, Liam clinging to Louis, Liam somehow looking so small wrapped up between the three of them. 

“Just tired,” he replies. 

Liam frowns and Niall knows he isn’t convincing at all, but Liam’s phone lights up and buzzes before he can say anything. Liam looks at the screen and freezes. 

“What is it?”

Liam grins and shakes his head, unlocking his screen and staring at it. Niall leans in close and peers over his shoulder. He feels like he shouldn’t be so surprised to see Zayn’s twitter open, to see that Zayn replied to Liam’s tweet so quick. It’s hard to believe when he was practically bullying Zayn into saying something to Liam a few minutes ago.

Liam doesn’t say anything, but he keeps looking at his phone. He stares and tries not to smile and Niall wishes he was a little more like Liam. He wishes he could let go of his own hurt as easily as Liam. He wishes he could be a little less selfish, a little less focused on how he feels hurt. 

But it’s not that easy. Because the hurt isn’t constant anymore. It doesn’t feel like there’s a constant empty space anymore. It’s still there, he still feels like if he turns around Zayn should be there - but he doesn’t always feel like that anymore. They aren’t filling in the space that Zayn left, but it’s like they’re closing tighter around it. Making the space smaller. 

It’s not that easy because even though the hurt isn’t always there, it still feels like it’s crashing over him when it is. It doesn’t feel like it’s getting easier to deal with, it’s just not always hovering over him anymore.

Niall settles against Liam’s side and sighs. At least one of them will be able to make things right with Zayn. One day Niall won’t feel quite so selfish and hurt about how it all ended up. Then he can make things right. 

Maybe he just needs time. He hopes he just needs time. He doesn’t want to feel like this forever. He wants to be friends with Zayn again. It’s just too hard right now. But maybe it won’t always be. Maybe when they’re not so busy, he can work it all out.

For now, it’s enough that Liam won’t be so upset anymore. That’s more than enough.

 

* * *

 

The stadium feels like it’s shaking. Everyone is screaming and shouting and all Niall can do is look around and grin.

Niall knew it was going to be big. He knew everyone was going to lose it when they decided to add the new song. 

He had no idea it would be like this.

He turns to look at Louis. He knows he’s meant to be talking, meant to be introducing the next song, but all he can do is stand and stare. They aren’t quieting down, aren’t calming down at all. Niall doesn’t know if they’ve ever had a crowd react like this. Not to a song in the middle of a show.

Louis is grinning and taking out his in-ears. Niall can’t help but smile all the wider. Harry and Liam are drifting around the stage, but Louis is right there. He’s just standing there like Niall is, looking around in awe the same way Niall is.

He says something into his mic, but Niall doesn’t catch it. Niall starts talking, but he still feels shell-shocked. The crowd is still screaming and shouting and Niall wants to pull the boys in and convince them to sing ‘Drag Me Down’ again. Screw the rest of the set.

From the way Louis’ grinning, Niall doesn’t think it would be a hard sell.

But he introduces the next song anyway. If the rest of the show seems a bit more electric, if he feels a bit more energetic than he usually does, this is why. 

Liam and Louis come racing offstage and they’re soaked like they always seem to be after a show now. They’re sticky from pouring Gatorade all over each other and sopping wet from topping it off with water bottles. Louis’ hair slicked back entirely and water is dripping off Liam’s nose. Niall doesn’t think either of them could be more drenched if they just got out of a swimming pool.

Niall can’t help but stare at Louis. He still doesn’t quite know what to make of his head. He still isn’t sure why it feels like Louis is taking up more space inside his head than he did before. But he’s looking at Louis and watching him shove back and forth with Liam and Niall just knows. He knows, somehow, exactly what he wants. 

He just wants Louis to always be right beside him like this. He wants to always be inside of Louis’ space. It doesn’t make sense. He’s always been so careful about making sure people know he needs time to himself. Niall knows that Louis respects that and always seems so much more aware of it than anyone else.

But Niall has never wanted to just hold someone’s hand so badly. He’s never wanted to ask  _ come stay with me _ and not mean just for an hour or two. 

He still doesn’t know what that means. All he knows is that he loves Louis. He loves Louis just like he always has, but he wants it to mean something different.

Liam holds Louis’ wrists between his hands and they’re both grinning and Louis turns to look at Niall. His smile goes soft around the edges and Niall’s throat goes dry. 

For a moment, Niall’s afraid Louis will have caught echoes of what Niall has been feeling. But Liam pushes him off balance and Louis is shoving Liam again. They’re both laughing loudly and they tumble into one of the cars, still drenched.

Niall doesn’t think he’ll have a choice much longer. He’ll have to say something to Louis - tell him what’s going on. Louis will feel it anyway and Niall wants the chance to explain it himself first.

He just has to figure out how to say all of it out loud.

 

* * *

 

It’s been a week and Niall is a little ashamed to admit he’s been avoiding Louis.

Not properly avoiding him - that’s not really possible when they have a show every other night and interviews in between and meetings about the album now that it’s finished - but it’s enough that Louis has started to look at him oddly. Little sidelong glances that Niall knows mean he’s noticed what Niall’s doing. 

He still just doesn’t know what to say. He hasn’t said anything and tomorrow they’ll have a week long break and Niall will be in America and Louis will be in London. Niall feels stupid. He keeps putting it off and he’s not sure why. He doesn’t want to put it off any longer, but he doesn’t know how to say what he means either. 

He’s not worried. Not really. He’s nervous, but he isn’t worried. It’s  _ Louis.  _ Louis would rather swallow nails than hurt him and Niall knows it. Even if he doesn’t want what Niall does, he won’t let it get weird or awkward. There’s no reason for Niall to worry.

But he hasn’t said anything. He keeps avoiding Louis as much as he can, sticking close to Harry’s side or following Lou and Lottie or disappearing with Josh and Sandy or going to train with Mark. He just keeps finding reasons to not be alone with Louis and Niall hates that he keeps doing it. He knows he’s being stupid, he just can’t seem to get himself to stop. 

Niall just doesn’t know how to start the conversation. 

He should have realised he wouldn’t have to, with the way Louis has been looking at him.

Louis corners him almost as soon as they get offstage. Niall’s barely managed to pass off his guitar and rip off his mic pack and in ears when Louis has a hand around his wrist and is dragging him down the hallway. Niall doesn’t even try to resist, just follows him quietly as Louis drags them both to the cars.

He shoves Niall in first and shuts the door behind them twisting in his seat to face Niall. For a few long moments, they just stare at each other. They’re alone in the car and Louis is looking at him carefully. It’s a quiet, judging sort of look. A pointed assessment of  _ will I be going too far if I say something. _

Niall can’t help but be grateful for it. He knows that Louis is more careful with him than he is with most people. He knows that Niall has limits and doesn’t want to cross any lines.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Louis finally says. It’s soft and quiet, not an accusation and not a question. Just a statement of fact. They both know that’s exactly what Niall’s been doing. 

Niall shrugs and folds his arms across his chest. What he really wants to do is start biting at his thumbnail, but he digs his fingers into his ribs instead. His shirt is damp and sweaty and Niall just wants to get back to the hotel and sleep. He doesn’t want to have to  _ think _ right now.

“Yeah, I just… think there’s something I want to talk about,” Niall manages. The words feel awkward in his mouth, too heavy and not weighty enough all at once.

Louis still looks at him carefully and quietly. Niall wonders if Louis can feel how nervous he is or how silly he feels for being nervous. Can he feel the hope lodged in the back of his throat that maybe Louis will want what Niall wants?

“Don’t know how to talk about,” Niall keeps going, filling the silence. It’s so rare for Louis to let silence hang like this it makes Niall want to talk and talk just to get rid of it. 

“How serious is it? Whatever you need to talk about?”

Niall swallows and his throat feels too dry and too tight. He shrugs and looks down. He doesn’t know how serious it really is. It feels serious to him. It feels big and unwieldy and he doesn’t know what to do with it. 

Louis inches closer and squeezes Niall’s shoulder tight. Niall shakes his head. He knows that Louis is getting echoes off of him, knows it has to be confusing and mixing everything up. It feels serious and important, but at the same time it feels like it could be easy. It’s hard for Niall to put into words, but once he manages it he doesn’t think it will be hard.

“It’s important,” Niall finally says. “I don’t know how serious it actually is, but it’s important.”

Louis nods and squeezes his shoulder again before dropping his hand. The front door opens and Preston climbs into the driver’s seat.

“We can talk back at the hotel. Think Harry and Liam are going out.”

Niall closes his eyes and nods before leaning his head back against the seat. Louis leans forward in his seat to chat with Preston while he drives, but Niall just sits. He feels light-headed and he’s not sure if it’s just exhilaration leftover from the show or if it’s nerves.

He opens his eyes. Maybe the drive will feel less unending if he at least pays attention to where they’re going. 

As soon as he opens his eyes, his chest goes tight and his vision blurs. 

He and Louis are in a hotel room and Niall is staring at Louis, waiting. He’s waiting and Louis is looking at him carefully and Niall wishes he could look away, but he can’t. He feels like he would fall right through the floor if Louis’ hand wasn’t wrapped around his wrist. 

Louis takes a step closer and his fingers slide down from Niall’s wrist to his hand. Niall swallows and Louis is about to say something when his vision goes blurry again.

It was the same flash. It was the same as the one he had before, the one where he kissed Louis. He didn’t see the same thing, but he could tell it was the same anyway. He’s never seen the same thing twice. Not like this. Not the same thing, just a different flash of it. 

He blinks and he’s in the back of the car again. Louis is sitting back again and has his eyes fixed on Niall. 

“You okay?” 

Niall nods and stretches his leg, foot knocking against Louis’. “I’m fine.”

Louis keeps his eyes on Niall, but Niall doesn’t want to risk Preston overhearing anything. He doesn’t know how he would even begin to come up with a believable excuse for the flashes. Louis doesn’t push and Niall hooks his foot behind Louis’, knocking their ankles together. 

It feels like ages before they’ve pulled up to the hotel. But they finally make it and Louis doesn’t even let Preston walk them up to their room. Tells him to go on back to his own, that they’re just staying in and don’t need anyone around.

Preston gives Louis a look like he doesn’t quite buy it. He looks at Niall and all Niall can do is shrug. He knows that if Louis were to decide to get up to any antics, Niall wouldn’t be able to stop him. He’d probably join in. 

It must be enough anyway because Preston let’s them get in the elevator and doesn’t try to argue with Louis. They’re both quiet right up until Louis pulls Niall to his hotel room door. He unlocks it and goes in ahead of Niall, turning the light on and heading for his suitcase. They haven’t had a chance to stop into their rooms yet, but someone came and brought their luggage at least. It’s probably the only reason Louis’ room isn’t a mess yet. 

Louis strips off his shirt, pulling out a clean one and swapping it out. He tosses one to Niall as well and Niall strips off his sweaty shirt. He really wants to wash himself off a bit first, but he’s put off this conversation long enough. He pulls on the t-shirt Louis gave him and kicks off his shoes before he turns his focus to Louis.

Louis is sitting on the edge of the bed and he’s managed to change into a pair of joggers too. If it weren’t for his still-damp hair and the sweat across his forehead, Niall would never know that they just came off stage. Niall takes a deep breath and just tries to breathe. 

“I had a flash a while ago,” Niall starts, shoving his hands into his pockets. “A few months ago.”

“That’s not why you’ve been avoiding me, though,” Louis replies. Niall feels like he should be annoyed that Louis cut straight through his explanation so quick, but he almost wants to laugh. He’s still avoiding it. Talking around it.

“At Glasto, you said you don’t usually care much about sex,” Niall says, forcing himself to be as straightforward as he can be. “Not unless you were dating someone. Like, it was only important if you already cared about them. I didn’t know that.”

Louis freezes, posture going from relaxed to just a little bit more rigid in a second. “What are you getting at, Nialler?”

Niall sighs and it sounds rough and violent and frustrated. He shakes his head and runs his thumb over the edge of his pocket. He wishes this was easier to talk about.

“I think I feel like that too. But not about sex.”

Louis’ frowning and Niall can tell he still isn’t making sense. He doesn’t know how to explain that he hasn’t always wanted Louis the way he does now. He doesn’t know how to explain how that shifted because he doesn’t  _ know. _

He looks around helplessly. He just doesn’t know how to say it.

“Niall,” Louis says, sounding exasperated. “Just  _ show  _ me whatever is bothering you.”

Niall blinks and he feels so fucking stupid. He doesn’t have to say anything. Louis can get echoes of whatever Niall is feeling. He just has to let himself feel it and not lock it down immediately.

He takes a deep, shuddering breath and makes himself keep his eyes on Louis. He wants to look away, doesn’t want to have to watch him while he feels exactly what Niall is feeling. But he makes himself look anyway. 

The corner of Louis’ mouth twitches up into a smile and then he makes a face and Niall can’t help but laugh. He shakes his head and steps close enough that he can kick his toe against Louis’ shin lightly. 

“Thought we were being serious.”

“You also looked like your head might explode,” Louis replies with a grin. “None of that, all right? Whatever it is, it’ll be fine. Stop worrying so much.”

Niall takes another deep breath and looks down at Louis. He’s still sitting on the edge of the bed and his fringe is starting to curl up at the end, drying from his water fight with Liam. He looks exactly how he’s looked after every show. 

He doesn’t bother trying to push down the warm, open feelings he gets when looking at Louis. It’s what he’s trying to say anyway. Trying to put into words the way looking at Louis makes everything go wobbly and blurry, but in a way that doesn’t make Niall feel scared or anxious. Trying to explain how he doesn’t feel differently, it’s just taking up a different space than before.

Louis shakes his head and his mouth twists. He looks down and Niall can tell it’s because he’s overwhelmed.

“Nialler, you’ve always loved me,” Louis says, trying to sound like he’s joking. Niall can hear the way his voice shakes.

“Course I have,” Niall replies. “Wasn’t the same, though.” 

Louis looks at him and Niall is suddenly aware of the space between them. Niall’s still standing and Louis is close enough that they could be touching, but they aren’t. It doesn’t feel right. Not when he thinks about being pressed up against each other at Glasto or curled up on his sofa back home in London or even all those months ago when they were in Jakarta. 

“I love you same as I always have. It just feels like it’s taking up more space now, you know? I want it to mean something different now.”

It still isn’t exactly what he’s trying to say. It isn’t quite right. But it’s enough. It’s the best he can do.

Louis looks up at him and it’s the same careful look he was giving Niall before. Now there’s the hint of something else, something soft and small and nervous that he’s trying to hide.

“What do you want it to mean?”

Niall thought that the echoes would have told Louis that much. But maybe that’s something that can’t be translated so easily. Not without context.

He looks at Louis and he could say a thousand things. He could say  _ I want it to be mean exactly what it has, just more  _ or  _ I want it to mean everything you and Liam and Harry have always written about that never quite made sense to me  _ or  _ I want it to mean that I love you most and you love me most and everything else isn’t important. _

Instead, Niall shrugs.

“I want it to mean more, I guess. Not different, just… more.”

Louis is still looking at him carefully and NIall feels like he should be squirming. He should be nervous or uncomfortable, but now that he’s saying it - now that Louis  _ knows -  _ it isn’t scary anymore. It’s just a relief.

“Think I might want more too,” Louis says and his voice is hushed. 

He’s looking at his knees and not at Niall and his hair is falling in his face. Niall wants to reach out and push it away, hold Louis’ hand tight enough that it hurts. He just wants to be close to Louis.

So he steps forward until his knees knock against Louis’. Louis looks up at him and he looks nervous and unsure in a way that he hardly ever projects. Niall lifts his hand so he can fit it against the side of Louis’ neck and rub his thumb along Louis’ jaw. 

“This okay?” Niall asks softly. 

Louis swallows and his throat moves against Niall’s palm. Suddenly, he feels like he’s too close. He’s standing over Louis and he has his hand against Louis’ throat and his knees are pressed against Louis’ and it feels too big. Too intimate and too familiar in a way they haven’t been before. They’ve been close like this before, but it’s never felt quite like this.

Louis reaches out and wraps his fingers around Niall’s wrist. His fingertips press against the inside of his arm and his touch is too firm and too gentle all at once. 

Niall has seen this happen in a flash twice now. But neither time was quite like this. It didn’t feel like this in the flashes.

He feels unbalanced, like he’s standing on a rooftop with no railing and looking out over the edge and wind rushing around him. He could go tumbling at any moment, hurtling towards the ground with nothing to catch his fall. But he feels like he’s pulled a blanket over his head too, that soft feeling of being too warm and too comfortable and not wanting to move, but hardly able to catch a breath either.

Louis is looking up at him and all Niall can think is he’s not alone on that rooftop or under the covers. Louis is right there with him - just as unbalanced, just as warm.

He bends down until he’s nose to nose with Louis. He’s so close that he can see bits of green in Louis’ eyes. Louis tightens his fingers around Niall’s wrist and Niall brushes his fingers against Louis’ arm too. His hand feels cold against Louis’ throat and he presses his thumb against Louis’ jaw.

He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t move. He looks at Louis and tries to project what he wants to do, trying to project  _ is this okay can I do this can we try this. _

Louis swallows again and leans forward, bridging the gap for them both. 

Niall doesn’t close his eyes completely, doesn’t want to risk opening them and not being right here in this moment, but Louis does. All Niall can focus on are Louis’ eyelashes and the light, barely-there freckles just below his eyes and how soft his lips feel against Niall’s. He keeps his thumb pressed against Louis’ jaw, presses harder and Louis presses closer. 

They’ve kissed before. It’s never felt like this before. The kiss is chaste and shouldn’t feel as overwhelming as it does, but Niall’s stomach has twisted like he’s falling. It feels intense in a way kissing never has before. Niall has to pull back to take a breath.

He presses his forehead against Louis’ and closes his eyes. His fingertips dig into Louis’ neck and Louis rubs his thumb against Niall’s wrist. He breathes and when he opens his eyes, Louis is smiling at him. He looks soft and fond and so open that Niall doesn’t need to hear him say  _ I love you. _

Niall takes a deep breath. He feels untethered, like he could drift off and away at any moment, but Louis keeps rubbing his thumb against Niall’s wrist and Niall keeps his eyes fixed on Louis and his vision doesn’t go blurry.

He closes his eyes again. Louis’ forehead is sweaty against his own and his hair is sticking to Niall. He doesn’t care. He’s glad that this is the future he gets to keep.

 

* * *

 

Niall doesn’t get back to the hotel until late. They had the day off and he spent it walking around Toronto with Mark. He walked around the city and no one stopped him and hardly anyone took pictures of him. Niall can’t remember the last time he felt so light.

He gets back and the sun’s already set and he’s starving. He wonders if the boys have eaten yet and if he can push his luck even more and go out somewhere to eat instead of just having takeout or room service. 

Niall doesn’t even bother stopping in his own hotel room. He just heads straight for Louis’ instead. 

He doesn’t expect to see Liam’s waiting outside the door, knocking and calling Louis’ name. He knows Louis didn’t plan on going out today. He spent the night in Louis’ room and asked if he wanted to come out and see the city. Louis just groaned and rolled over, mumbling about staying in bed all day. If Louis isn’t in his room, Niall has no idea where he might be.

“Hey, Li. Did Tommo lock you out?”

Liam shakes his head. “Don’t know if he’s in. Told me to stop by later, but I can’t find him.”

“You try calling?”

“Yeah, must not have his phone on.”

Liam frowns and knocks on Louis’ door again, this time banging. Niall shakes his head and grabs at Liam’s arm, pulling him down the hall. “Louis’ll be fine, Payno. Probably went out for a smoke or something.”

Liam’s eyes light up and he glances towards the elevator. “Should I go look for him?”

“Liam, he could be anywhere.  _ No, _ you shouldn’t go look for him. He’ll be fine, he can take care of himself.”

“But he said - “

“You know him. Probably forgot and will call you an hour from now.”

Liam bites his lip, but nods. “Think I’m going to head down to the gym for a bit.”

Niall let’s go of Liam’s arm and pats him on the shoulder. “Have fun. I’m gonna get some food and chill for the night.”

Liam heads off in the direction of his room and calls out, “Love you, Nialler,” over his shoulder. Niall grins and shakes his head, unlocking his door and slipping inside. He kicks off his shoes and stretches his toes, digging them into the carpet and dropping his keycard on the table. He wonders where Louis got to. Did he decide to go out or did he just slip out for a bit of air?

His room is dark and Niall flips on some lights, slipping into the bathroom to wash his face. He hopes Louis gets back soon from wherever he went.

It’s been over a week and Niall knows they’re both on the same page now, but he’s still not quite sure what’s going on. They haven’t really talked about what all of it means. They haven’t talked out any of the details. They haven’t talked about what’s okay and what isn’t or how serious they want this to be or how they’ll tell the boys or what will happen after tour and after the album’s out when Louis has to be in LA.

They haven’t talked about any of it and Niall thinks they might have to. He’s worried. At least, a bit. Louis has had plenty of relationships, he knows how to make them work, but Niall doesn’t. He doesn’t have a clue and that scares him. He needs to know what he needs to be doing.

He runs a hand through his hair and heads for the bed - he thinks there are some menus in one of the drawers and he doesn’t think he’ll be getting out of the hotel tonight. He freezes. 

The light from the hall casts long shadows over the bed, but Niall can still make out Louis’ ruffled hair poking out from under the hood of one of Niall’s jumpers. He’s curled up on his side, hair a mess and bed a mess and his hand tucked up under his cheek. His face is red and Niall pulls back the duvet gently - he doesn’t know why Louis is so bundled up when his hotel room is so warm, but he can’t be comfortable like that.

Niall crawls into bed beside him as carefully as he can, but Louis blinks his eyes open anyways. He squints and presses his face against the pillow. Niall reaches out before he can help himself, lifting Louis’ fringe out of his eyes and pushing back the edge of the hood so it isn’t in his face.

“Morning, sunshine,” Niall says brightly, voice low. “Liam was looking for you. Had himself in a state.”

Louis frowns, slow and confused. “What time is it?” 

Niall bites down on his lip to hide a grin. He hooks one foot around Louis’ instead, rests a hand on his waist. Louis is so warm and Niall doesn’t know why he keeps nicking his jumpers - Louis has more than the rest of them combined and brings half of them on tour. 

“Past dinnertime,” Niall replies. “You stealing my clothes again?”

Louis hums and closes his eyes, inching closer to Niall. Niall can’t help but grin and leans forward, kissing the tip of Louis’ nose. Louis laughs, breathy and small and the kind that makes his nose scrunch up and his smile go bright.

“Thought you were staying in bed all day,” Niall says when Louis opens his eyes.

“Am in bed, aren’t I?”

“Not the one you were in this morning.”

Louis shrugs and Niall knows that Louis isn’t going to say why he broke into Niall’s room. He doesn’t need to know, honestly. Louis can have some secrets. He’s always gotten uncomfortable whenever anyone points out that he’s being emotional. Niall has an idea of why Louis snuck into his room, but if he wants to keep it to himself that’s fine. 

“Could we talk, do you think?”

“What about?”

Niall bites his lip. “About us.”

Louis looks at him and he still looks tired and groggy, but his eyes are bright and focused. “You’ve not changed your mind or something, have you?”

“What? No. Of course not. Don’t be stupid.”

Louis rolls his eyes and Niall digs his toes into Louis’ leg in retaliation. “Ow, stop that. Sorry,  _ Jesus. _ What do we need to talk about, then?”

“I just… I want to know how this is going to work,” Niall says simply. “I don’t really do this. I just need to know how it’ll work.”

Louis looks at him carefully. The same gentle, assessing look he pinned Niall down with a week and a half ago. 

“How do you want it to work?”

Niall sighs and it comes out like a huff. He expects Louis to laugh, expects him to joke around and keep teasing. Louis just watches him, waiting. 

“I don’t know,” Niall finally replies. “I’ve never wanted something like this before, Lou. I don’t know how it works.”

“That’s not what I’m asking,” Louis says softly. “I don’t care how it’s supposed to work, Nialler. I want to know how  _ you _ want it to work.”

Niall swallows and digs his fingers into Louis’ side, fingers slipping in the bunched up jumper. “I don’t know,” Niall mutters again.

“Sure you do,” Louis replies, voice gentle in a way that should put Niall on edge. He shouldn’t  _ need _ Louis to be gentle like this. He knows that. But it doesn’t upset him like it should. 

“Do I?”

Louis smiles, small and soft and fond and almost too much for Niall to bear. “You do. Just overthinking it, yeah? Letting your brain scramble you all up.”

Niall bites his lip and moves closer. He presses his free hand against Louis’ belly just so he has a place to put it. He didn’t even realise he packed this jumper, but it’s soft and warm from Louis sleeping.

“I want it to be like it has been,” Niall says carefully. “Nothing’s changed, really. But I want it to mean something else? Like, I want to be with you whenever I can. I don’t want to sleep alone.”

Louis grins and leans forward, kissing Niall soft and quick. “See? You know.”

“Is that really a relationship, though?” Niall asks nervously. “I don’t… I don’t want this to end once we aren’t touring anymore. I want you longer than that.”

Louis watches him carefully and Niall wants to look away, but he doesn’t. This is important. He needs Louis to understand that this is important to him, even if he’s never quite done anything like this before.

“I’ve never wanted to date someone before,” Niall says softly. “Not really. It’s always just been a laugh. Bit of fun. But it’s different for you. I don’t want you to just go along with whatever I want.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Louis says firmly.

Niall scoffs. “Please. You’d definitely do that.”

“I would not!”

Niall raises an eyebrow and Louis does it right back. He laughs, but he shakes his head too. “You would! If you thought I wouldn’t like something, you wouldn’t even ask for it.”

Louis shakes his head and shifts, propping himself up on one arm so he’s hovering over Niall. “If you don’t want something, then I won’t want it anymore. It’s not that complicated.”

Niall doesn’t think it’s that simple either. But he doesn’t know how to say that without offending Louis.

Louis reaches out and pinches him and Niall slaps his hand away. “What the fuck you do that for?”

“You don’t believe me,” Louis says airily. “Go on. We can make it a game. Like one of those sleepover ones Lottie and the girls were always doing. You tell me something you might want and then I’ll do one.”

Niall frowns. He doesn’t think this is an effective way to communicate boundaries in a relationship. It seems a bit too silly. 

He shakes his head and sits up anyway. There’s no stopping Louis when he’s got an idea in his head and this is better than nothing. 

“This is ridiculous.”

Louis sits up and they’re sitting across from each other, cross-legged like he’s five years old again. Their knees knock together and it makes it feel all the more ridiculous. He can’t believe they’re doing this.   


“Come on, then. What’s something you want?”

Niall looks down at his knees, starts tugging at the hem of his shorts. He feels stupid that this even has to be a conversation they have. He wants to just tell Louis to forget the whole thing. He feels awkward and uncomfortable and knows that anyone else wouldn’t need to do this.

“Hey now,” Louis says softly, “none of that, all right? You’re fine.  _ This  _ is fine.”

Niall shrugs and keeps his eyes on his knee. “Anyone else - “

“I don’t give a fuck about anyone else,” Louis says firmly. “I’ll start, yeah? I want to take you back home with me. Tell my mum about us. I want to go back home with you too, if that’s all right.”

Niall tries to swallow. His mouth feels too dry and his throat feels too tight. He doesn’t know what to say. He knows how much Louis’ home means to him and he knows that Louis understands he feels the same way. He knows how important Louis’ family is to him, knows that wanting that is big even if Niall has met his family a hundred times over.

He tugs on the hem of his shorts again. It all feels too big, too deep and too big and too important all too fast for him. Louis reaches out and tags the back of his hand, pressing against his skin when Niall still tugs on his shorts. He leaves it there, one finger pressed against the back of his hand.

“Doesn’t have to be anytime soon,” Louis says softly. “But would you want that?”

Niall bites his lip and looks up. Louis isn’t looking at him like he expects anything. He presses the rest of his fingers against the back of Niall’s hand. He doesn’t hold Niall’s hand - just presses his fingers there and rubs his thumb against Niall’s wrist.

“Yeah,” Niall says softly. “Yeah, I would.”

Louis grins and even though he tries to keep it small, it’s bright and  _ happy  _ and Niall twists his hand so he can hold Louis’ tightly. 

“I want to tell the boys what’s going on. I want to go out with you like we’ve done before and call it a date.”

Louis nods and squeezes his fingers. “I want that too.” He pauses and rubs his thumb against the back of Niall’s hand, but this time it feels more like it’s for him than it is for Niall. “I… I don’t want to have to worry about sex. It’s not always something I want, even when I’m in a relationship. I know that’s a lot, but - “

“It’s not,” Niall interrupts, holding Louis’ hand tight. “Don’t care about that, yeah? Love you, not your dick.”

Louis laughs and the sound echoes around them and Niall can’t help but grin too. He laughs and covers his mouth with his free hand, shoulders shaking even as he manages to muffle the sound against the back of his hand. 

When Louis finally looks up again, his eyes are bright. 

“I mean it, you know?” Niall says softly, pressing his toes against Louis’ knee. He has socks on and they slip against Louis’ joggers, but Louis drops his hand from his mouth and rests his hand on Niall’s ankle. “I love you, Lou. If you don’t want sex, that’s all right. Just want to be with you, whatever that means.”

Louis’ mouth twists and he looks down again. Niall squeezes his fingers. He likes sex, sure. But not more than Louis. 

Niall thought Louis was just being nice or trying to protect him when he said if Niall didn’t want something, he wouldn’t want it either. But unless Louis wants anything physical like that, Niall doesn’t want it either. 

“You sure?” 

Louis’ voice is small and quiet and Niall wonders vaguely how many times Louis has had this conversation. He thought that he was the only one that needed to talk things out, but looking at Louis now he’s not so sure. 

“Yeah. I’m sure.”

Niall keeps his eyes fixed on Louis and pulls their hands into his lap, wrapping his other hand around Louis’. Louis looks up at him and his hair is in his eyes and he looks tired even though he’s spent all day in bed. Niall wants to pull him close and go back to bed. He wants to get up and drag him out and take him to dinner. He wants to go find a pub and just sit with Louis for a few hours.

“You can’t feel bad if you get echoes, though, all right? Even if you know I’m in the mood, you can’t just go along with it to make me happy.”

Louis looks away quick as can be, tries to pull away and put some distance between them. Niall holds onto his hand tight. He’s not going to let Louis out of this.

He knows just how far Louis would go to make him happy. He won’t let Louis hurt himself for Niall’s sake.

“I mean it,” Niall says firmly. “I don’t want anything like that with you unless  _ you _ want it, all right?”

“So, what? If I offer to help you out, you’ll say no?”

Louis still isn’t looking at him and his voice is harsh around the edges, but Niall knows there’s nothing behind it. He feels uncomfortable and trapped and Louis lashes out whenever he feels cornered. Even if it’s something that’ll do him good.

“If you  _ want  _ to help out, I’d say yeah. But if you just offered to make me happy? Of course I’d say no, Louis, don’t be stupid.”

“I’m not being  _ stupid,  _ sex is a big part of relationships - “

“You said it doesn’t matter how it’s supposed to work,” Niall cuts him off. “We get to set the terms of this, yeah? I don’t want to push you into something you don’t want. I don’t want you to feel like you have to do something you aren’t comfortable with doing.”

Louis bites his lip and Niall rubs his thumb against Louis’ wrist. He won’t budge on this. If Louis is letting Niall set what the romantic part of their relationship means, than Niall’s going to let Louis set what the sexual part means. 

This is too important for them to fuck it up because they’re uncomfortable.

“I love you too,” Louis finally says quietly. 

Niall squeezes Louis’ hand before he lets go. He stretches his neck and gets up off the bed so he can stretch his legs out too. 

“Let’s go out,” Niall says. “Didn’t get stopped at all today. Let’s go out to an actual fucking restaurant and get dinner. It’ll be great.”

“You taking me on a date, then?”

“Yeah,” Niall says. “Yeah, I am. C’mon. Must be a pub somewhere around here.”

Louis stands up and pushes back the hood of Niall’s jumper, pushing his hair out of his face. “I can’t even remember the last time I went to a pub.”

Niall grins and kisses Louis’ cheek quick. “Go get some real clothes on and fix your hair. I’ll find someone to drive us.”

Louis looks at him for a moment. Before Niall can ask if he’s all right or what he’s thinking, Louis is sweeping him up into a hug. His arms are tight around Niall he’s still warm from being asleep. Niall closes his eyes and presses his face against Louis’ shoulder. Louis is hardly ever still when he hugs and Niall can’t help but focus on the way he drums his fingers against Niall’s back.

“Thanks,” Louis says softly, breath brushing against Niall’s neck.

Niall just hugs him back. He’s not going to say that there’s no reason for Louis to thank him. He’s not going to ask if Louis has ever really talked things out like this before. They’ve talked about it now. 

He just hugs Louis back and makes sure to hold on as tight as Louis is holding him.

 

* * *

 

“Nialler!”

Niall rolls his eyes. He was starting to wonder if Louis was going to make it on time for the show. He looks up from his guitar and Louis ruffles his hair before walking round the other side of the sofa to sit down. 

“‘Bout time you showed up,” Niall says, focusing on tuning his guitar even when Louis props up one of his feet on Niall’s knee. 

“I had to pack. Can’t exactly fly off to Vegas right after the show if I don’t have my suitcase, can I?”

Niall raises an eyebrow and grins. “Took you that long to pack? Lou, we’ve been here a day. You didn’t even spend the night in your room. How much did you have to pack?” 

Louis shrugs and puts his foot back down on the floor, reaching forward to grab Niall’s bottle of water off the table. “Where are the boys?”

Niall plays a few chords, making sure he didn’t fuck anything up. His acoustic is always a little bit harder to tune, but it doesn’t go out of tune quite as easily as his electrics either. Niall shrugs and plays a bit of the song Louis and Liam played for them all those months ago. They decided against adding it to the album, but Niall knows Louis’ pushing to release it anyway. 

“Around. Why, you need ‘em?”

“Thought we might tell them before the show.”

Niall stops playing and raises an eyebrow. “You serious? Now?”

“Why not?”

Niall bursts out laughing. It’s their last real show in America for ages. They don’t have another show for weeks and it’ll be the last leg of tour. Niall and Louis are flying out to Vegas right after the show to celebrate Niall’s birthday. Niall isn’t sure if there’s a worse time to tell Harry and Liam about their still very new relationship. 

“Sure,” Niall laughs. “Let’s do it.”

It’s a terrible time, but Niall doesn’t really care. He knows Harry won’t be surprised. Liam probably won’t either. There’s no point in dragging it out any further. 

Louis narrows his eyes for a moment, but he must be able to tell that Niall is serious because he grins. He stands up, still grinning, and says, “I’ll just go find them then. Back in a mo’.”

Niall laughs again and shakes his head. He feels  _ good  _ and he’s a little surprised. He expected to feel more upset. He expected to miss Zayn more today. It’s his first birthday since they met that he hasn’t spent celebrating with Zayn. Even if they weren’t together the day of every year, he always celebrated with Zayn and the boys eventually. 

This is the first year that Zayn won’t be there at all. He expected that to make him feel more unbalanced or angrier or sadder. 

He isn’t, though. He feels okay. 

He still misses Zayn. Wishes he was there, obviously. But it’s okay that he isn’t. He has Louis and Liam and Harry. He’s going to spend the weekend in Vegas with his friends and with Louis and it’ll be okay, even though he spent his birthday the year before in Vegas with Zayn.

Niall figures he should put more thought into why he feels okay about it when a month ago it would have felt like the end of the world. But he’d rather just enjoy it. He doesn’t want to overthink it anymore. It hasn’t helped anyway. It’s only made him anxious and stressed and sad. 

He knows he’ll still be sad and anxious. He can’t just wave a wand and make himself feel better about everything that’s gone wrong in the past year. But he doesn’t have to focus on it as much.

Niall would rather focus on the fans. He’d rather focus on the boys and the album coming out soon and the last few shows they have before the end of the year. He’d rather focus on Louis and making their relationship work, as weird as it might be.

It’s been a shit year. But there’s been a lot of good in it too. Niall doesn’t want to forget that.

Louis comes storming back into the room, Liam and Harry not far behind him. Liam looks frazzled and Harry looks amused. He’s doing a terrible job of hiding a smirk and Niall is pretty sure he’s already got it figured out. He thinks Harry had it figured out before Niall even had a clue. Louis perches on the arm of the sofa next to Niall. Harry only smirks bigger. He really needs a better poker face.

“What’s going on? Is everything okay?” Liam sounds worried and he’s looking back and forth between Louis and Niall nervously. “Louis said you have something to tell us.”

Niall rolls his eyes and sets his guitar down, reaching over to shove Louis off the sofa. “The fuck did you say to get him all worked up?”

“I didn’t do anything,” Louis replies, shoving back. “It’s not  _ bad,  _ Liam. You think Harry’d look so smug if it’s something bad?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Harry replies. He’s still smirking.

Louis raises an eyebrow and Harry is still smirking. Niall shakes his head. “You going to tell them, or am I going to have to?”

He turns to Niall and for a second, Niall is sure he’s going to make Niall tell the boys. Niall would. He would tell them in a heartbeat, but he’s also pretty sure it’s something Louis wants to do. It’s why they haven’t told them before now.

“I’ll do it, I’ll do it,” Louis grumbles. He turns so that he’s sitting sideways and can press his leg against Niall’s arm. Niall leans against him a bit. They haven’t talked about why they waited so long to tell the boys, but Niall’s pretty sure it’s because Louis has been nervous.

“Young Niall here has decided he wants to woo me,” Louis says and Niall isn’t surprised that he’s being so loud and brash. He’s trying to play it off. Doesn’t want to be too serious because it’s easier if people don’t know how important it is to him.

Niall knows how Louis works. He gets it. Even if it’s just Liam and Harry, he still feels like he has to protect himself. Even if they’ll see right through him. 

Liam and Harry both look at Niall. Liam’s frowning and Harry still looks intensely amused, but he’s raising an eyebrow too. Niall wants to laugh at how they immediately turned to him to make sure Louis isn’t joking. 

“Not how I’d put it, but he’s not wrong, I guess.”

Harry looks even more smug than before and Niall’s a little worried his face will get stuck like that. He glares and scrunches up his face, but Harry just laughs and continues to smirk at them. Liam keeps looking back and forth between them, though. Like he can’t quite believe it.

“Really?”

He’s trying to sound skeptical and Niall can’t blame him. He and Louis have spent the last few months terrorising each other. If he were Liam, he’s not sure he would trust Louis if he said the sky was blue. 

“Nah, it’s all a ruse,” Niall replies. “We’re tricking you into a false sense of security by saying we’re in love so you don’t notice all the snakes in your dressing rooms.”

Liam’s eyes go wide right up until Louis starts laughing so hard that he nearly falls off the sofa. He throws his head back and covers his mouth with his whole hand and Niall has to grab the front of his shirt so he doesn’t tumble backwards. 

Once Louis is balanced properly, he grabs Niall’s shoulder. He’s still laughing and Harry is still smirking and Liam is grinning and shaking his head. Niall keeps a hand on Louis’ arm. He doesn’t trust Louis not to fall off again because he’s not paying attention.

“Yes, really,” Niall replies. “Won’t be much different from before. Just calling it something else. Means something different now.”

Liam steps forward and wraps his arms around both of them. Louis’ face is pressed against Liam’s head and Niall’s head is trapped against Liam’s chest. 

“Happy for you two,” Liam says, sounding far too earnest. It’s the kind of earnest that Louis always tries to divert and turn into a joke. He expects Louis to poke Liam in the side or twist his nipple and make him jump away.

He doesn’t. One hand is still on Niall’s shoulder and he slides it over until he can grip the back of Niall’s neck instead. He hugs Liam with the other arm. 

“Thanks, Li,” Louis murmurs. 

Niall swallows and moves his hand from around Louis’ arm to around his ankle. He presses his thumb against the inside of it, running it over the bone lightly. 

Harry joins them even though it’s the most awkward group hug they’ve ever attempted. He hooks his chin over Niall’s shoulder, bending over the back of the sofa to wrap his arms around all three of them. 

He’s ridiculous and mad and Niall loves him. They’re all ridiculous and mad and wonderful. He squeezes Louis’ ankle a little harder and presses his forehead into Liam’s chest a little more and tilts his head so it knocks against Harry’s gently. 

They’re ridiculous and mad and he loves them so much he feels like he might burst with it. 

_ “Niall,”  _ Louis groans, knocking his knee against Niall’s shoulder.

“What?” Liam asks, sounding confused.

“He’s being all sentimental, make him stop.”

“On it,” Harry replies. 

“Harry - “

Niall’s too late. Harry digs his fingers into Niall’s ribs. They’re all going to end up bruised to hell and someone’s going to knock his guitar over and he’ll have to hurt them and then they’ll probably end up starting the show late. 

He can’t quite make himself care. Even with Harry being his most annoyingly bratty and trying to tickle Niall until he pisses himself, Niall loves them all. He loves them and can’t wait to go out onstage and watch them do their best to embarrass him in front of a sold-out stadium of fans.

 

* * *

 

Niall doesn’t realise what’s happening at first. Not until he sees that Louis and Harry are both at the very edge of the stage, that they haven’t moved from that side, and that’s when he catches on. 

Geoff Payne is at the front of the line, leading an entire group of their friends and family through the crowd so they’re right by the catwalk. They’re grinning and they’re drunk and Niall drifts towards them immediately and Liam is right beside him.

This is it. This is the last time they’ll do this for a few years at least. 

This is  _ it _ but he can’t stop smiling. He can’t stop grinning and looking at all the people they care about most and singing right at them. 

The whole show has gone by too quick. They’re down to the last of their songs and Niall isn’t sure how he’s going to walk off stage when he knows how long it will be before they’re back on it again.

Then their families all demand for an encore and the band plays it again. And again. Niall’s jumping around and so are the boys and so are all of their family and friends. It’s silly and stupid and the best thing that could have happened tonight.

He drifts over to Louis’ side and Harry and Liam are both talking to the crowd and to all the people they love that came to see them. Louis wraps his arm around Niall’s waist right away, presses his hand against Niall’s ribs and just keeps rubbing his thumb against his side. Niall can’t stop smiling and he can’t imagine what Louis feels like with all the echoes right now. 

He looks at Louis and realises that he wants to know exactly what he’s feeling. 

“Lou,” Niall says, leaning close and talking right into his ear.

Louis turns and he’s smiling and his in ear is already hanging over his shoulder so he leans in close so he can hear.

“What’s it feel like? With the echoes?”

Louis leans back and Niall expected him to be confused, but he’s just smiling. He’s smiling wide and bright and with the stage lights shining down on them Niall feels like he can hardly see. Louis shakes his head and he’s still smiling so bright it’s all Niall can do not to kiss him right there onstage in front of the whole world.

“Fucking amazing,” Louis says in his ear. “I’m buzzing.  _ Actually _ buzzing. Feels like my skin is full of static or something.”

He’s still smiling, beaming bright and brilliant and blinding. Niall keeps his arm wrapped around Louis’ neck and Louis keeps rubbing his thumb against Niall’s ribs and Niall hates it when they finally let go. He hates when they finally move on and their friends go back to their section. He feels like he blinks and suddenly they’ve only got one song left.

He’s about to talk to the crowd, give the last speech right before they sing ‘Drag Me Down’. He practiced this speech - he practiced it because he knew if he didn’t, he would get too emotional to get through it. He feels okay. He feels like he might be able to make it through all right. 

Then he turns around and sees Liam and Louis back on the main stage and they’re hugging and Louis has both his arms around Liam’s shoulders and he’s whispering something in Liam’s ear and Niall feels his control slip.

His vision blurs.

He’s just off stage and there’s screaming and cameras everywhere. Niall recognises the X Factor stage - they’ve been here too many times for him not to know just where he is. All the boys are right there and they’re all in suits and he has Harry on one side and Louis on the other and they’re all pressed in as close as they can get and wrapped around each other.

“Last one, boys,” Louis says and his voice is shaky. “Ready for it?”

Niall doesn’t feel ready. He feels sick and scared and nervous, but his grip goes tight on Louis’ and Harry’s shoulders. He knows this is the  _ real _ last show - he’s seeing them doing their last show before break and that’s why his chest feels like it’s collapsing in on himself.

He holds onto the boys even tighter. He doesn’t know if this flash is different and he has more control over it or if he is just on the same page as the future Niall who’s eyes he’s borrowing. But he holds them all closer and looks between all three of them and knows exactly what he’s going to do.

“Love you all,” he says and tries not to get too emotional or teary, not when they’re about to sing. “Love you more than anyone.”

His vision goes blurry again and he’s back onstage and he has to give a speech.

He tries to focus on the crowd. He tries to get through his speech without losing it. He’s not quite managing, though. He’s fumbling over his words and he’s holding back so much that he knows everyone can see how much it’s affecting him. He knows it and everyone in the arena knows it and Niall just tells himself  _ fuck it.  _

He turns to Harry and Liam and Louis. 

“I would like to thank the boys - the three other boys - for, uh… for having me. I’ve had a great time boys and I love you very much and, uh, thank you.”

Louis says something and Niall can’t quite make it out over all the screams. But Liam all but collides into his side and then Harry has an arm around his shoulders and Louis’ walking towards them, arms already out.

Niall can’t stop smiling. His chest feels so full and so empty all at once, but he can’t stop smiling. He’s smiling and he wants to cry and he’s wrapped up in Harry and Liam and Louis. They’re all sweaty and disgusting and Niall knows this isn’t  _ really  _ their last show. Knowing that doesn’t help this feel any less emotional.

They pull back and they’re all trying to make a joke out of how emotional they all are and he knows it isn’t working. It doesn’t matter. He’s emotional and might cry, but over all of that he’s just  _ happy.  _

He can’t help himself once they’ve finished the last song. The band is still playing the outro and Niall has to reach for Liam and hug him close. He has to hug them all again. Has to share this moment with them and hold onto it for as long as he can.

“Love you,” he says right up against Liam’s ear, turning his face so no one can read his lips. This isn’t for the fans. They’re screaming and the sound is echoing off the walls of the arena and Niall can barely hear himself think, but this isn’t for anyone but the four of them.

He lets go of Liam and grabs Harry, holding him tight. Harry wraps an arm around him and tilts his head, all but pressing his lips against Niall’s ear.

“We’re good,” he says. “We’re good.”

Harry pulls back and heads straight for the crowd. Niall heads straight for Louis.

Louis and Liam are still hugging, rocking each other back and forth big and bold and everything their hug on the main stage when Niall was talking wasn’t. Liam pulls back and he’s laughing and under the stage lights it’s like his smile is glowing. He moves past Niall and towards Harry.

Niall doesn’t waste a moment. As soon as Liam’s let go of Louis, Niall is wrapping his arms around him.

He’s clapping him on the back and his face is squished against Louis’ shoulder and Niall can’t say anything. Everything feels like it gets stuck in his throat and he can only hang onto Louis. 

There’s so many things he could say.  _ I’m proud of you  _ and  _ we made it we really made it  _ and  _ I couldn’t be up here without you  _ and  _ I love you I want you I’ll always want you _ and a thousand more things that he can’t force himself to say.

So he just hangs on. He keeps hugging him and touching him and doesn’t want to let go. Even when Louis’ pulled away, he runs his hand over the back of Louis’ head before he really lets him leave. 

He turns back to the crowd, but he doesn’t miss the way Harry heads for Louis. He doesn’t miss the way Louis sees him coming or the way Louis shrugs right before they hug. He doesn’t imagine the way the screams kick up another notch and Niall is so proud of them for saying  _ fuck what people will say  _ and doing it anyway. 

They stay on the stage longer than normal. They wait for Jon and Sandy and Josh and Dan to come down and join them for their final bow. They linger on the stage and too soon they’re heading off. 

Niall doesn’t know how to leave. He doesn’t know how to step away from the screams and the signs and getting to play to crowds like this every night. He feels like he can’t breathe for how much he misses it already. He looks out at the crowd and all the people that aren’t moving an inch even though it’s all over.

He feels like he’s frozen. He doesn’t know how to let go of all this, even if it’s only for a while.

He turns and Louis is there. He’s smiling and it’s still bright even though most of the house lights are up and he’s vibrant and all Niall see. He’s hardly taken a step before Louis has him wrapped up in a hug again. 

He’s wrapped up in Louis’ arms and Louis’ skin is sweaty against his but he doesn’t care. He can feel his heart thudding against his chest and they’re pressed so close that he can feel Louis’ beating against his too. 

“C’mon, lad,” Louis says right in his ear. He’s still smiling and keeps an arm round Niall’s shoulders, even though Niall is doing the same thing. Their arms are pressed up against each other and Louis leans in close to say, “let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so very very much for reading!! I am so humbled and grateful if you made it through this entire story. If you want to see more from me, I'm on Tumblr [here](http://justawordshaker.tumblr.com). Let me know what you think!!
> 
> [Art](http://justawordshaker.tumblr.com/post/141960033721/like-deja-vu-louisniall-ot4-ot5-104k-niall) | [Fanmix](http://8tracks.com/becomewords/like-deja-vu) | [Thank You Post](http://justawordshaker.tumblr.com/post/141959761186/after-seven-long-months-my-big-bang-fic-is-about)


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